Don't Change My Mind
by dreamonloves
Summary: Only one can make her believe in the person no one else sees, not even her. Lucaya Fanfic. Disclaimer: I don't own Girl Meets World or any of the stories mentioned.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hello, lovelies~! I would just like you all to know that this is my first story ever and I hope you all enjoy it! I'm working on my writing skills, and if I want to be an author one day, I figured I would have to get serious .  
Chapter One

"Maya," Riley says. "I—I can't be your friend anymore. You're not the same person I knew from middle school, or even high school."

Well, of course I'm not the same person I used to be. Wasn't that the Secret of Life? People change people? Or did I remember wrong? I'm sure that I'm right, but I was also sure that my best friend would never leave me.

"Though you were never perfect, you used to be so caring," Riley continues. "I don't even recognize you anymore…."

That's because I don't know who I am anymore, Riley.

"I miss the girl you were, and every time I'm around you now, I miss her more. It's tearing me apart. I'm sorry, Maya…."

I can see that I cause Riley to lose more of her innocence and happiness and that she's desperately reaching her hand out to be saved from my cage. I want her to be free, to have someone she can lean on because frankly, I don't know how to care for her. So I don't stop her as she walks away. And when I turn to leave in the other direction, I don't look back.

The great thing about living in a dorm for singles is that I can pretend that my dad and mom didn't abandon me. They're at home, proud of my scholarship, happy that I'm taking these steps toward my future while wishing that I was with them. But that is not the case. My dad is in jail, rotting, and my mom is who-knows-where doing who-knows-what. It's not like she left me a note of where she would be.

I get out my easel and set it in front of my window. I pushed my desk to the side for this specific purpose. I take my brush and start painting. I only paint in black and white and gray because those are the only colors I see. The others faded from my view around three years ago, and I suppose it's the reason why I feel the _need_ to paint. I don't want to lose sight of black and white and gray too.

The paint curls, curves, until I don't know where each stroke begins and ends. The black touches the white to form gray, and sometimes, when I am hopeful enough, I sit and stare at the canvas, waiting for a new color to emerge because, God, all I want is to remember. Remember the pressure of my dad's hold on me as he carried me in the market; remember the way my muscles felt when I returned my mom's smiles; remember the rush that came from laughing too hard with Riley. But the distinct memories never come back.

I cover and cover, layer and layer the paint until not even I know what I was planning on doing. Maybe I always intended to create this mess.

I always ask myself the same question when I lie like a mummy in my bed at night: Will I finally cry? I have never once cried. Not when the cops took my dad, not when I came home to no one, not when Riley told me she didn't want me anymore. I don't know if that means I'm not sad or if that means I'm just dead inside. I really don't want it to be the latter.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Hey, lovelies~! Sorry for my weird format. I'm still getting the hang of this. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Two

I like the café a few blocks away from my school. The floor and walls are black, and the chairs are white. The windows are tinted, so it seems as if I'm almost normal. Almost. After all, knowing why I come here is enough to recall my messed up nature. _To escape is nothing. Not to escape is nothing. –Louise Bogan_ That's just how life works. We'll never get what we want.

Unfamiliar passerby start to cross my view, and I look at the clock. I've been thinking for too long; I'm going to be late for my art class. I grab the white mug and chug the last of my black coffee. Then I leave my utopia behind.

"Maya," Ms. Kossal scolds. "You're late."

"Sorry," I mumble. "It won't happen again." And I do mean it. I love art too much to ditch the class.

She studies my visage for a moment before saying, "Okay. I trust you, Maya." Then she smiles and whispers, "I'll let this pass because you're my favorite student."

I return her smile genuinely and sit in my seat. Ms. Kossal continues as if I never interrupted. "As I was saying, you have a new project that is worth half of your grade. Work in partners to capture something that you feel passionate about."

Some kid in a neon color shirt asks, "May we choose our partners?"

Ms. Kossal smiles warmly but answers, "Nope! I already assigned each of you a partner. Listen for your name." She reads off a list, and some people cheer, some groan. I don't care who I have to work with as long as it's not—

"Maya," Ms. Kossal says. "You'll be with Lucas."

—Lucas. I look at him from across the room, and he grins and waves. We have not spoken in many years, not since I chose Riley over him. So what I had a crush on him? Best friends are supposed to pick each other no matter what. But now I lost Riley and have to work with Lucas. Oh, the irony.

I jerk my head away and stare daggers at Ms. Kossal who is either oblivious or apathetic to my glare. I almost hate art class. Almost.

I'm in the library, cramming for my Bio test, because I find it the only place I can relax. I never would have thought I would love books, but ever since I had Harper in eighth grade, I can't get enough of them. The temptation to grab one and read it makes me study harder. It doesn't make sense, yes, but—hey, it works.

I'm completely focused on the Calvin Cycle when I feel a hand tap my shoulder. I jump then turn around to see Lucas Friar. You'd think after all these years, his crooked smile would lose its effects on me, but I feel my cheeks begin to flush. I look away so he doesn't notice.

"Now, is that really any way to treat a friend, Shortstack?" Lucas says with a smirk.

"We're not friends," I reply coolly, disregarding the way he's speaking as though I never shunned him. "What do you want?"

"Um, we have a project together."

Shit. I forgot. "Er, right. I knew that. What about it?"

"When should we work on it?"

"When I figure out what passion I have other than art."

Lucas chuckles, making sure he doesn't laugh too loudly because, well, we _are_ in a library. "But seriously."

"Who said I was joking?"

Lucas' face falls. "You're serious? You still haven't found anything you really like after all this time?"

I shrug. "If it helps, I like books. I just wouldn't call it a passion."

"Alright then," Lucas says with a determined glint in his eyes. "Meet me here at this exact spot tomorrow at 3:00."

"Lucas," I say. "We can't paint in here."

"Who says we're staying here after we meet?" he asks innocently. "And who says we're painting?"

I don't like that mischievous look he's wearing. "…What do you mean?"

"You'll find out," he says eerily. "Just meet me here. Tomorrow. At three."

He leaves without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** Hello, lovelies~ Sorry my chapters are short; I'm still figuring out how to add layers to a story. Anyways, enjoy~

Chapter Three

I wait in the library like Lucas told me to when in fact, I really don't want to. I don't know why I'm here. I yearn to be in my room, painting, but something is stopping me. Maybe it's this book I'm reading, _All the Bright Places_. The protagonist, Theodore Finch, reminds me of who I used to be: unstable and sassy. I want to reach into the book and grab Finch and make him stay with me and make me understand why I lost myself. But then again, I don't think he could help.

"I'm most afraid of myself," he says. I am too, Finch.

As I'm about to put the book back on the shelf, I notice Lucas sitting across from me, staring.

"Shit!" I shout-whisper from shock. "How long were you there?!"

Lucas chuckles as if I'm the weird one. "Ten to fifteen minutes. Honestly, I thought I'd have to wait thirty."

"Creep," I mutter.

"So you ready?" he asks.

I eye him warily. "Ready for what?"

"For discovery," he replies with his arms outstretched, embracing the possibilities I cannot see.

I sigh. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

"You'll see when we get there," he says with a smirk.

I sigh again.

No. Just no. Why here? Why here of all places to go? I wear a guarded expression and look at Lucas with a raised eyebrow.

"I figured we would have to start from the beginning," he says.

John Quincy Adams High School is most certainly the beginning of something, but how could he know that? We drifted apart during freshman year, so he—wait. Is that what he means? Start from the mystery of why Maya Hart suddenly ostracized Lucas Friar?

"Lucas…," I say.

He laughs, catching my implication. "Don't worry. What I mean is we're going back to the place where I first noticed your liveliness fade."

I furrow my eyebrows. He was watching me?

He moves forward, and I follow. He navigates his way through the familiar haunted hallways. I always sensed there were others like me here, lurking, waiting for another soul to add to their collection. Of course, it was just my imagination running wild, but it was a strangely comforting idea.

He leads me to the art room, and I wonder why he led me here. I still love art.

"What are you trying to do?" I ask him.

"I'm trying to help you remember."

"But I haven't forgotten."

"Are you sure about that?"

I gaze into his eyes and realize he knows that there's something hindering my ability to paint. He isn't quite sure what, but he knows there's something.

I clear my throat. "So then what's your plan?"

"Do you recall where you sit?"

I nod my head slowly and point to my seat in the corner, a place I got from intimidating the teacher and the student who sat there before me.

"Go on," he says, gesturing towards the desk.

I inch towards the forbidden seat and look at Lucas skeptically, who nods encouragingly. I plop ungracefully in the chair and say, "Now what?"

"Close your eyes," he replies, so I do. "Now go back in your memory."

"My memory of what?"

"Of why you began feeling disconnected to everyone and everything."

That's simple. I don't need to remember. I don't want to remember. I don't want to go back to day my dad got arrested, and my mom just stared at me like it was my fault. I don't want to go back to every fight I had with her since then, the yelling about nonsense simply because she couldn't handle realizing we'll never have my dad in our family. I don't want to go back to the day I came home to no one and nothing because my mom didn't even have the decency to explain her disappearance. I want none of it. I want none of this messed up person I've become, but I can't escape because I can't let go. I don't want to let go.

"Maya," Lucas says, jostling me away from my train of thought. He is frowning, and his eyes are worried.

"What?" I ask, voice cracking. I take an unsteady breath and realize I am shaking.

"You zoned out for five minutes there," Lucas replies, then shakes his head. "God, I'm sorry, Maya. I should have thought this through more. I didn't mean to put you through all of that."

His concern is touching, but I refuse to let it affect me. I cross my arms. "You totally meant to. Maybe not exactly like that, but you did."

He slightly pouts, and I hate how adorable he looks. "I'm sorry…"

I sigh. "Fine. Just make it up to me."

Lucas gives me a bewildered expression. "How?"

"Tell me a secret and not a little one. A big one."

He smirks, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you said we weren't friends, Shortstack. Don't friends tell each other secrets?"

I roll my eyes. "Stop avoiding this, Huckleberry." My eyes almost bulge out of my head from the nonchalant way I speak because I figured I would never say that name again, but I don't show it.

Lucas laughs. "Fine, fine. Well…," he says and fidgets. "I used to like you in middle school." He bites his lip, and though I appear not to react, inside my chest, my heart is racing. All I can think to say is "But Riley."

He sighs. "I was a confused fourteen-year-old, okay?" When he sees my shocked expression, he says, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh. What I meant to say was that I was in an awkward phase where I had to be somebody to someone, and I was to Riley, if that makes sense."

I look down at my hands, chest constraining. "I understand," I mumble. "But I didn't know that was something that was just supposed to be just a phase."

"I guess it depends on the person," Lucas says, and when I look up, his smile says that it's going to be okay, but I don't really know why he feels the need to tell me that. I never asked for reassurance.

After a few moments of this silent staring, I smirk, recalling why we're here in the first place. "Hey, Ranger Rick?"

"Yes…?" he says, knowing that when I call him by his nickname, something bad comes after it.

"Your plan failed."

He sighs. "Yeah, I noticed." Then he grins. "But I'll figure something else out."

"When will that be? Our project is due in two months."

"Trust me, Maya. I got this."

Trust is a luxury I can't afford, Lucas.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey, lovelies~ Sorry for the late post. I have a lot of homework, so I don't have time to post Dx Anyways, enjoy~ I didn't have time to proofread, so there may be errors.**

Chapter 4

I'm a light sleeper, so I wake up when I hear someone knock on my door. I groan because I can only sleep in during the weekend. Whoever is at the door is taking my sweet, sweet time away from me.

Now, don't think I like sleep because I get to escape reality. The truth is, I don't even dream. I close my eyes, then I open them. Sleep is simply a black nothing between passive livings. No, that is not the reason as to why I like sleeping either. My reason is the same as any other young adult out there: I just want my goddamn sleep.

I reach the door and see Lucas standing there. I sigh. "What do you want, Huckleberry?"

He replies with a smirk, "I want to make it up to you." It's too early for this (fine, early for me), and there's no question to what he wants to make up, so I take an involuntary step back to which Lucas laughs. He says, "Don't worry, Shortstack. It's nothing bad. I think. Actually, I'm not sure."

"That's reassuring."

"Well, during the entire time I've known you, you never told me if you can skate."

"That's how you're going to make it up to me?" I don't know how to skate, but I still think it's a strange idea for comfort.

"Well, I figured I could do two things: say sorry and find your passion."

I raise my eyebrow out of complete disbelief. "And you think skating is the solution," I say flatly.

He gives me a crinkly-eyed smile that makes me want to punch him as my knees go weak. "I was hoping we'd at least try."

I purse my lips. "'Kay. Just know this isn't a date, Hopalong."

"I would never think of it," he says. "There's just one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Don't fall in love with me." He winks, and that time I do punch him in the stomach, but when he hunches over, he simply laughs.

"I won't."

After I get ready, Lucas and I head to his car. When we approach it, I say, "Are you kidding me, Hee Haw?" His car is a worn down pick-up truck, and I swear he chose this car for the sole purpose of getting on my nerves.

"I kid you not," he replies then opens the passenger door for me. I roll my eyes then get it. Lucas walks around the front of the car to the driver's seat. When he gets in, he starts the engine and turns on the radio to a country station. As if that isn't enough, he blasts the music through the speakers. I roll down the window as if that will lower the volume and literally scream, "WHAT THE FUCK, RANGER RICK?"

"What do you mean?" Lucas says disingenuously. He puts an arm around me and warbles, and I'm conflicted between hitting him and singing with him. I settle for yelling, "Put your hand back on the steering wheel!" He laughs at me, decreases the fricking volume, and places his hand back on the steering wheel. "I'm just messing with you, Shortstack."

"Or you're trying to kill us."

"That wouldn't be such a bad way to go," he says softly. I study his face and notice the contemplative way he stares at the road. I decide to try to make this into a joke because that expression on his face scares me. "You're crazy, Huckleberry."

Lucas raises his eyebrow at me and asks, "Would it be so bad to die with a friend?"

I don't know how to respond to that. He has a point there. I mean, life sucks when there's no one to love, so I just mutter, "We're not friends."

He laughs. "Sure we're not."

Too many people too many people you idiot Huckleberry you idiot Huckleberry. How am I supposed to learn how to skate when there's a person RIGHT NEXT TO BOTH OF MY ELBOWS? I swear, I've rammed into every person on this rink and received dirty glances from a couple of them. When I sneer back, Lucas says, "Don't worry about them, Maya. Just focus on yourself."

"Yes, Ranger Rick, let me focus on ALL THE BRUISES I HAVE." People turn to look at me, but I don't care. I'm too frustrated to be quiet.

He laughs and says, "Sorry, I forgot about that."

"You forgot that I fell so many times?! Dude, it happens every five seconds!" Just as I yell that, I slip, but Lucas catches me. I'm about to thank him when I look into his eyes, the eyes I used to love staring into. God, I wish I could see the color of them, or at least remember it. I clear my throat and shake him off of me. "Thanks…," I say, a bit disoriented

"No problem," he says and rubs the back of his neck in a cute, nervous way. Wait, no. I take that back. Not cute; I repeat, _not_ _cute_. Argh, skating changes me.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You're, um, scowling at the floor."

Shit. "Oh, uh, that's because it keeps making me slip." Before he can say anything else, I skate on forward as fast as I can from him, and—wait. I'm skating, and I haven't fallen. I'm skating, and I haven't fallen! I'm so excited that I turn my head around and say, "Lucas! I'm doing it!" I laugh deliriously, and he joins me, and that's when I run into a burly, dark man. I hit the floor hard. "Sorry…," I say without even checking to see if the guy is there, but I hear him reply in a gruff voice, "No problem. Let me help you up." I take his huge hand and stand up. I almost thank him—almost¬¬—when he says, "Hey, you single?"

Unbelievable. I still get hit on despite my talk-to-me-and-you-die aura. Is that attractive? Is it attractive to hit your body into someone's back from lack of grace? Although I became less approachable over the years, I also gained more self-control, so instead of punching him in the gut and getting the hell out of there, I say, "No, but I'm not interested, thank you." I turn to leave, but his overly muscular arms stop me. "Woah," he says. "I think the least you could do after body slamming me is to let me take you out." I can't tell if he's smiling or growling. "Now I'm going to ask you—" Suddenly his arm isn't around me, and I feel a warm, familiar one replace it. "Woah," the guy says. "What do you think you're doing, man?"

"The question is what do you think you're doing?" Lucas says. "My girlfriend deserves more respect than that." Normally I would elbow him for calling me his girlfriend, but I think this situation is an exception.

"G-girlfriend?" the guy says. "Sorry, man. I didn't know she was taken."

"What? Can you tell just by looking at someone if they're taken?" Lucas asks with a menacing voice. This is getting out of hand, so I tell the guy, "Go before he loses control." The guy nods then leaves like his life depends on it. Which it probably does.

I lead Lucas to a table out of the rink to calm down. He takes slow, deep breaths and presses his hands to his temples. "Sorry, Maya," he says once he's regained relative control.

"Don't be," I say. "If you didn't come, I probably would have attacked him."

He laughs. "I just imagine you jumping on top of him and demanding him to say mercy."

"That is actually what I planned on doing," I joke. Then I get up and say, "Come on, Hopalong. We should go now. As much as I like skating, I think it's more of a hobby than a passion."

"I know," he says.

"What?"

He chuckles. "Nothing. Let's go."

"Okay…"

Lucas puts his arm around my shoulders, and I put my arm around his waist. He offers me comfort, so I do the same for him. It's nice to know someone else is broken. It's so easy to forget, though.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey, lovelies~ I noticed that Maya saw color in previous chapters, so I went back to fix it LOL xD Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter. The end is exciting ^.^**

Chapter 5

I lie on the ground outside where the cool wind caresses my face. I keep my eyes closed to avoid the colorless world. Besides, sensation is better than visuals. That must sound weird coming from an artist, but I don't like art for its aesthetic purpose; I like art for the way it makes me feel. This moment is serene enough for me to feel content, so to celebrate, I softly sing a song I wrote:

 _Blue skies  
Green grass  
Butterflies  
Things lost.  
Red rose  
Yellow sun  
Wind blows  
Dreams gone._

"Hey, what are you singing?" Lucas asks.

I jump then open my eyes and turn my head to the right. "Gah! How long were you there?!"

"That depends. What part of the song is 'blue skies'?"

Frick. "The beginning."

He gives me a stupid grin and says, "I know."

I playfully swat his arm. "Is there any reason you're interrupting my relaxation time, Sundance?"

"Actually, yes. There's a party later today in the Alpha House. Want to join me?"

Me? Why me? That's what I want to ask, but instead I say, "Couldn't get your friends to go with you, Hopalong?"

"Um, actually…" Lucas says, fidgeting. He seems nervous, and he won't meet my eyes. I squint before realizing, "Oh my God, they will be there with us."

"Us?" Lucas asks and smirks. "Then I assume you will go to the party with me."

"Woah there. Hold your horses, cowboy. I meant why would I hang out with your friends?"

"Come on, you know Zay and Billy, Maya."

"You're Mister Perfect and Popular. That list should be longer. Besides, I wasn't invited."

"You know what?" Lucas says, leaning back onto his hands. "You're right. I'm Mister Popular, and you know what that means?" I lean away from him, not liking where this is going. "That means they'll let you in because you're with me."

I sigh. I can't argue with that logic, so I say, "Why do you want me there so badly anyway?"

"Let's just say you don't want to be there alone when Zay and Billy get drunk."

"Point taken."

"Okay, so pick you up at seven?" he asks, getting up.

"Yeah, sure." As Lucas walks away, I call out, "Lucas?" When he turns around with a gleam in his eyes, I silently curse myself for what I'm about to do. "I propose another plan."

He gets closer. "And what's that?"

"Stay with me and enjoy the scenery until it's time to go."

Lucas appears shocked for a moment, but then he recollects himself and nods. He lies down next to me, and I can see him grin from the corner of my eye.

"Wipe that stupid smile off of your face, Sundance."

"Okay."

He doesn't. But I don't say anything, too busy trying to hide my own.

Loud music. That is the first thing I register. Then it's the smell. It reeks of alcohol, and the party has only just begun. Why am I here? More importantly, why is Lucas the Good here? I thought he'd be more responsible than to be someplace where there's heavy drinking. But when I see Zay and Billy play who-knows-how-many rounds of Beer Pong, I understand why.

"They're a handful," Lucas says, noticing my shocked stare at the way Zay and Billy chug their beer. "I supposed I could use help from a fellow non-alcoholic."

How Lucas knows I don't drink is a mystery, but I guess he heard what happened to my mom when I was in tenth grade. She had to go to the hospital from the horrid level of her intoxication. After that, I pledged myself to abstinence. Never will I ever touch a bottle of beer, a glass of wine, a cup of gin…

"WHOO!" I hear Zay yell. "BEAT THAT, BILL-LAY."

"ANOTHER ROUND, ISAIAH BABINEAX," Billy begs. "I NEED TO WIN."

"IT'S OKAY, BILL-LAY. YOU WON ONE ROUND."

"OUT OF FIVE."

"Lucas…?" I say. "What do we do…?"

He sighs. "Hold on, I got it." Lucas approaches the inebriated guys and mumbles something in both of their ears. From the way both of the boys flush all the way to their ears and get down from the chairs, Lucas threatened them to get their act together. That's fine with me. They were killing my ears as much as the pounding music is.

Zay gasps. "This song is my jam! Let's go dance!" He pulls Billy and Lucas with him to the dance floor, and Lucas grabs my wrist to make me suffer with him. I try to pry my wrist out of his iron grip but to no avail. I grumble the whole way to which Lucas responds with a "Lighten up, Shortstack." I flip him off with my free hand, but he just laughs at me.

 _Dance the night away.  
Dance your heart away.  
The only one who stays  
Is you._

Oh, Zay, what a hopeless romantic. I wonder how his relationship with Vanessa is. Long distance must be hard. Not that I would know, but I'm good at guessing.

With Lucas in front of me, I'm reminded of the Semi-Formal in eighth grade when Sheppard came to perform, and I danced with Lucas. I almost told him how happy I was in that moment, so I played it off as arrogance. Right now, I don't care. I grin like an idiot as we jump together in tempo and laugh as Zay and Billy stumble over each other, unbalanced from their drunken state.

Then the DJ, who I assumed worked at high school dances, says it's time to slow things down. Lucas and I help Zay and Billy sit down as they argue about whether that girl across the room was ogling at Billy. When we think they won't fall over, Lucas holds out his hand and says, "Shall we?"

I've regained enough control over myself to hide my excitement, so I roll my eyes and take his hand. "Whatever, Huckleberry."

He leads me back to the center of the room and sets his hands on my waist while I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

 _In this moment, I could fall  
Without being scared at all  
Because I believe in us,  
I believe in love._

We sway and sway until I feel so calm that I let my head rest against his chest. I can hear his heart, strong and slow, and I close my eyes. I feel his cheek settle on my head, and we stay like that even when the music picks up again. I look up at Lucas, and he looks down at me, and as we stare into each other's eyes, I notice something forgotten but familiar. His eyes shine of sea foam green. I grin, and Lucas smiles back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey, lovelies~ Sorry for being a slow poster. Being a junior makes me lazy xD  
Okay. I just have to say Lucas on the actual GMW show is annoying me with his indecision ._.  
Anyways, enjoy~ If there are any errors, just know that I skimmed this chapter when I proofread xD**

Chapter 6

After Lucas dropped me off at my dorm last night, I immediately started to paint. It's been so long since I've seen such an alive color, so I'm afraid I'll forget that soft sea-foam green. It took me forever to find the right hue, but I finally got it, and I haven't stopped painting. I probably look crazy with my bloodshot eyes and messy blonde hair, and I'm pretty sure it's six right now, but I need to engrave this color in my head. I like this world that goes beyond black and gray and white.

There's a knock on the door. I don't want to get up; I need to capture the exact essence of the sea-foam green eyes before I lose it. I think I left the door unlocked, and if I didn't, the only person who suffers is the person at the door, who I assume to be Lucas because, well, who else would it be?

"Come in!" I say. Wow, my throat is really dry.

I hear the door open and footsteps approach. I don't turn around, too focused on the task at hand. I don't think the silence is weird until I hear Lucas ask, "Are those my eyes?"

Shit. I didn't think this through. I probably look like a creep with the intense way I paint his eyes. I turn around, quickly finding an excuse, but whatever I had in mind leaves when I notice his smirk. Meanwhile, I keep my face black and respond with "Maybe, maybe not."

"It's a yes or no question, Shortstack."

I scowl. "Don't you have a reason for being here?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Remember how Zay and Billy got drunk last night?"

"...Yes..."

Lucas wears a serious expression. "I need another favor."

I raise my eyebrow. "You want me to play nurse."

Lucas notices my resolve not to help him, so he begs, " _Please_ , Maya. You saw what a handful they are."

I shrug. "Not my problem. All you had to do was stop them from drinking."

"C'mon, Maya. Please. I'll do anything."

I went back to my painting, but when he says this, I turn around with a cocked eyebrow. "Anything?"

Lucas gulps. He mutters, "Fuck," and more coherently, "Yes anything."

"Then okay," I say.

"Really? You agree that easily?" He looks at me skeptically. "What's the price?"

"All in due time, Ranger Rick," I say then get up. I walk out of my room without checking if Lucas is following, and soon he takes smooth strides next to me.

"So...," he begins. "How long were you painting me?"

"Shut up," I say.

He laughs.

"Before we go inside," Lucas says, "I have to warn you that what you're about to encounter is going to scar you."

I don't react, but I do say, "And you claim to be my friend."

He grins. "Isn't that why I'm asking you for this favor?"

I purse my lips. "Just open the door, Huckleberry."

"Okay..."

When he does, the first thing I register is the smell. My fucking olfactory sense is offended with the stench of puke and sweat, and my eyes hurt. Then I hear Billy groan, and I face Lucas, who grimaces at the scene, and say "Well I can't deny the fact that you really need help."

"Is that Maya?" Zay croaks out.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Can you get the world to stop spinning?"

"Nope."

Lucas sighs out of irritation. "This happens every time, and I warned you both, but did you listen? No. You brought this upon yourselves."

"But you still take care of us," Billy says with a lazy smile.

Lucas mutters, "Why me?"

I laugh. "Come on, Sundance. Let's just get this over with. What do you want me to do?"

"WATER," Zay yells.

"Gah! You're making my headache worse, Zay," Billy says.

"Please get them water," Lucas tells me.

I chuckle. "Sure thing."

When I leave the dorm to find the vending machine, I get strange looks from every guy I pass by. I don't blame them. I don't go out often, much less go to the boy's dormitory. Still, there are many girls they haven't seen.

As I lean down to pick up the water bottles, I hear someone dog whistle behind me. I quickly stand up, and I know I should get the hell out of there, but the guy with a stupid grin is standing too close.

"What do you want?" I say with a dark tone.

"Nothin'," the guy says and stands back to let me through.

I roll my eyes but take my leave without a word. I don't have time for people like this. Well, I don't _care_ to spend time with people like this.

When I get back and after I hand the water bottles to Zay and Billy, Lucas asks me while dabbing at their foreheads, "What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You keep pacing back and forth, and are you muttering, 'That ass'? I mean, I know I have a great butt, but..."

I slap him on the arm. "That wasn't a compliment, you idiot."

"Then what did I do?"

"Why do you assume it's you?"

"Because you're staring at me."

"Am not."

"Whatever you say, Shortstack."

I sigh. "If you have to know, I'm just tired of getting hit on by strangers without pride or respect."

Lucas' smile disappears. "What happened?"

"Oh, relax, Huckleberry. It's not like he did anything. I'm just annoyed."

"I thought you'd be used to it by now," Lucas mumbles while wiping at Billy's forehead.

I take another wet towel and do the same for Zay because I was starting to feel useless. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he thinks you're hot," Billy says, and Zay laughs.

"Shut up," Lucas says.

"And Maya thinks Lucas is hot," Zay adds.

"Shut up," I say.

"They have the hots for each other," Billy concludes.

"Shut up," Lucas and I say.

They cackle and cough like crazy until I'm scared their lungs will fall out of their mouths, and Lucas and I avoid each other's gaze. This happens until Zay says, "I'm tired."

"Me too," Billy says. "Bet you can't fall asleep before me." But Zay is already snoring loudly, and soon, Billy sleeps too.

"I'll never understand why they sweat so much from hangovers," Lucas mumbles to himself. I get up and lie on the only bed left. I didn't realize just how exhausted I was, but then again, I didn't get any rest last night.

"How long were you up?" Lucas asks, sitting next to me.

"You make it sound like I slept," I respond.

Lucas chuckles. "You have all the time in the world to paint, but you decided two AM was a good time?"

"No, I thought 'now' was a good time."

"Such wise words from someone who has no hope."

I sigh. I don't want a lecture on my lifestyle or beliefs, nor do I want to tell him why I was up so late, so I say, "And _you_ have no problems?"

Lucas winces. "Yeah, sorry; that was rude of me."

"No, it's fine, Huckleberry. I know you meant no harm by that."

It's quiet for awhile, but it's a comfortable silence, so I close my eyes and breathe slowly, letting myself relax for once.

"I do have problems," Lucas abruptly says.

My eyes shoot open, and I turn to face him. Before I can respond, Lucas gives me a sheepish smile and says, "Sorry. Did I wake you? I won't talk anymore, I promise."

"No, it's okay. You can tell me. If you want, that is."

"It's just being around you brings up so many memories, some of which I purposefully forgot-not that that's your fault. I just mean I didn't remember my problems until we started talking again, which is good, because I can't be fixed until I find out what I need help with."

We're all broken, so I don't try to reassure him that he's not messed up. "And what do you need help with?" I say instead.

"Anger. Disappointment. Me."

"Well, you're not alone there."

"What's your story?"

My guard goes up. "You didn't tell me yours, so why should I tell you mine, Sundance?"

"Fair enough," Lucas says. "I had an abusive father and a dependent mother who almost didn't let me go to college until I promised I would come back to her."

"At least your parents want you," I say to be optimistic, not to self-pity.

"What do you mean?"

"My dad left, then got arrested, which my mom blamed me for. Then she also left, which I guess must mean it really is my fault. I mean, she can't hate her daughter _that_ much, right?

"Maybe they had a reason."

"That they couldn't tell me about?"

"People are complicated. Especially you."

I feel slightly offended by that comment. "Why me?"

"The better question is 'how not you?' "

"I'm quite simple. People just make things complicated."

"Or maybe you're just bias."

I sigh out of exasperation. "Whatever. We strayed from the topic. Are your parents the reason to why you get overprotective over people you care about?"

"Well, my dad is. Not my mom. She makes me want to become a better person."

"So that's not that bad of a relationship."

"I suppose not, but it does get overwhelming sometimes."

I can feel my eyelids start to sag from my need to sleep. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great person, Hee Haw."

"Thanks. You are too, Maya."

"Sure I am," I slur.

"Believe me, Maya," Lucas says, his voice slowly disappearing as I enter a different world. "You are so much more than you see."

Right before I drift into blackness, I see tan skin brightening those sea-foam green eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey, lovelies~ Sorry it took so long for me to update. MY LAPTOP DELETED ALL MY HARD WORK SO I HAD TO TYPE IT ALL OVER AGAIN. Anyways, enjoy~**

 **P. S. To the guests I can't respond to: Thank you!**

Chapter Seven

This time I made sure not to paint late into the night. Instead I just keep that unclear picture of Lucas in my mind, doing my best to sharpen the image. I might not be paying much attention in class, but that's okay. I get the gist of it: AUG-beginning RNA code and UAA, UGA, UAG-end RNA code. There's some more parts to it, but I'll study later. Maybe. Probably not. I'll see.

After the professor dismisses the class, I practically sprint to my dorm; I just might explode from this fear of forgetting, which isn't the worst way to go, but it's not pleasant either.

But before I can even go into my room, I see a sea-foam green-eyed, tan Lucas sitting in front of my door. He texts on his phone, but when I get closer, he looks up and grins at me without me making any noise. Or maybe he heard my feet trampling across the floor as I ran over here. I say, "Hey, Huckleberry. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm done with my classes for today, so I figured I would come here to annoy you," Lucas answers with a smirk.

"You succeeded," I tease and sit next to him.

"I know. My very presence is _appalling_."

"I'm disgusted by just looking at you, Ranger Rick."

"You're right; I'm hideous, although," he says, then taps his chin, "I've been told I have an amazing ass."

I slap his arm. "I said that wasn't a compliment!" I grumble, though I'm smiling.

"But you have to agree it is," he says, getting up to show me his butt.

I kick it. "In your dreams, Cowboy. I will _never_ say you have an amazing ass."

"You just did," Lucas says with a smirk and sits back down.

"Oh, shut up."

We lapse into silence, and I lean my head against my door. I close my eyes for a moment before I ask, "Seriously, why are you here?"

"I just thought we could hang out," he replies with a shrug.

"And do what?" I say, barely concealing my smile.

"Well, there's this café I really like close by campus."

"Retrogrand?" That's the black-and-white café I love so much.

"Yeah, they have great chocolate croissants and-"

"Black coffee?"

Lucas furrows his eyebrows. "Um, maybe? I don't know. It's possible, but-"

"I'm in."

Lucas seems surprised. "Really? Wow, okay. I didn't think you'd agree because this has nothing to do with our project."

"Are you kidding me? That's my other home. Plus, I'm making you pay as remuneration for making me babysit."

"Fair enough," he says and stands. He holds out his hand to me. "Shall we go?"

I take it. "Gladly."

. . .

When we arrive at Retrogrand, I glance at Lucas to make sure the black and white building doesn't deter my ability to see other colors. I can still see his sea-foam green eyes and tan skin, so I let out a relieved sigh. I hope I'm just being irrational, that I won't forget again, but if I did once, it can happen again, right? Someone, please tell me I'm wrong.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asks me.

"Huh? Yeah, why?"

"You're looking around frantically."

"Oh," I say, then clear my throat. "Yeah, just, uh trying to get my bearings."

"But you've been here before..."

"That doesn't mean I don't get confused sometimes."

Lucas shakes his head and mutters, "I'll never understand you."

I grin. "You don't have to."

When we walk into the café, I'm surprised to see the barista from the morning. She usually leaves when I do. I wonder if she has been here the whole time. I have a job, so I understand what it's like having a double shift. You start hating people because you have to smile at them like you're not about to collapse from exhaustion.

"Hey, Kelly," I greet her as I approach the white counter. "How are you?"

"Honestly?" she says. "I'm done with the world. I've been here since six, and my mouth hurts. You want the usual, Maya?"

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem. Is this your date?" she asks, gesticulating at Lucas who rubs his neck awkwardly.

"No," I say at the same time Lucas says, "Yes." I raise my eyebrow at him. "I thought we agreed this is just payment for my services, Ranger Rick," I say.

He smirks. "You know I'm kidding, Shortstack."

"Then care to go out with a barista, Mr. Hunk?" Kelly says with a wink. I roll my eyes because I knew this was going to happen. You can't go anywhere with Lucas without expecting an encounter with a coquette.

"Actually, Mr. Hunk would just like a mocha from the barista."

Kelly laughs. "It was worth a shot. That'll be six ninety-nine."

Lucas takes out his wallet and hands Kelly the money, and she says to me, "You be good to Mr. Hunk now, okay, Maya? He's a keeper."

"We're not dating," I say flatly.

"He paid for your coffee, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

"Just get our drinks, Kelly."

She raises both of her eyebrows and scoffs teasingly. "Sassy~. Good luck with this one, Mr. Hunk."

Lucas laughs. "Thanks," he says, and I put my hands up in exasperation, but he ignores me. "My name's Lucas, by the way."

"Sh!" Kelly says. "It's supposed to be a secret." She finally turns around to brew our coffees, and I look at my nails to avoid looking at Lucas. I swear I can feel his smirk burn my skin, and I really don't know what joke I would say without sounding a bit peeved. God, I need to repaint my nails; even I'm embarrassed by them, and I usually don't care.

"Here you go," Kelly says, handing the cups to Lucas and me.

"Thank you," Lucas says and puts a tip in the jar to which Kelly responds with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Kelly," I say. "See you tomorrow."

"See you, Maya, and I hope I'll see you again, Mr. Hunk," she says with another wink. I roll my eyes. Girls are so weird. Yes, I realize I'm a girl, but I'm not typical.

I lead Lucas to the table I usually sit at and hop onto the tall, white chair to which he laughs at. "There are shorter chairs around, Shortstack," he says. "Why pick the one too high for you to reach?"

"Because I feel like King Kong here," I reply without inflection.

"Don't you mean like a toddler?"

"It's all about perception."

"And I think you look like an adorable child trying to be a grown-up."

"Let's not be condescending now, Ranger Rick."

Lucas smirks and puts his hands up. "Joking! But seriously, why do you seem like you're extremely happy to be in this spot?"

"What? I don't look happy."

"You're glowing, Maya."

I look out the window to find my reflection, but I can't see myself clearly. Do I really look that delighted over something so stupid?

"There's nothing wrong about being happy, Maya," he says softly.

No, Lucas. It's just wrong for me. I don't say that, and I don't feel like responding, so I just grab my mug and take a sip.

"You know, that would taste a whole lot better with some sugar," he says, getting up.

"I'm fine," I say, a lame attempt to stop him, to be honest. "Really, Huckleberry-"

"I'm getting the sugar," he says behind his back to direct his now distant voice to me.

I sigh. I could make a bigger effort to stop him, but I'm not going to lie: I like this attention. It makes me feel special, like I'm worth it. I hide my smile by drinking more of my coffee, although I don't think any one is watching anyway. I look out the window again, this time to watch the crowd outside. The thing that catches my attention is how many single people there are. Of course, they could have a lover at home or at work or wherever, but I only know what I see. Right when I count the first couple to pass by, Lucas sits back in front of me. I turn back to face him.

"See this?" he asks, waving the sugar packet in front of me. "This is to sweeten your coffee." He opens the packet and pours the content into my drink. "Then," he says slowly, grabbing the spoon next to his cup, "you stir."

I roll my eyes at the way he treats me like a child. It's not like I never knew of the existence of sugar; it was just a choice not to use it. I always assumed sweet tastes would make me sick, but there's no going back now. Lucas gestures toward the cup, and I touch it with my eyebrows raised. He nods in encouragement, so I scrunch my face up in anticipated disgust, but when I take a sip, I find myself strangely calmer, and it doesn't taste bad. In fact, it's kind of good. I take another sip to make sure it isn't my imagination to find that it really isn't.

I look up at Lucas who appears smug. "Whatever," I say, anticipating what he is about to say.

He chuckles. "It's not bad to try new things, you know."

"I know. I just like to play it safe."

Lucas raises his eyebrows in mock shock. "What? _The_ Maya Hart 'plays it safe'? I _never_ would have thought that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, referring to his tone.

"I know you, Maya. Whether you believe it or not."

I don't. You can tell me it's because I don't want him to, but I don't care who knows I'm messed up. I just don't believe him because I don't care to show him-or anyone for that matter. I want to test him, want to see if he truly understands me, but I'm not willing to show the depth of my instability.

I look down at my coffee, and it takes me a moment to figure out that something is different, something is weird: black coffee is not black. What the actual fuck.

"Well," I mumble, "my vision is completely abnormal now."

"Why do you say that?" Lucas asks, not freaking concerned at all.

I bring my cup close to his face. "What color is my coffee, Sundance?"

"It's a dark, dark brown."

Wait, what? That's exactly what I see. That doesn't make sense. "Then why is it called _black_ coffee?"

"Because it's too long to say 'dark, dark brown'? I don't know," Lucas says, laughing. "Why are you asking this now anyway? Didn't this occur to you before?"

"Um, no."

"Why not?"

"Because I've never noticed."

He seems genuinely surprised by this. "But you're an artist" is all he manages to say.

I sigh, but I don't reply. I don't want to explain my issue. It's not normal; I'm not normal, and I don't want to ruin the relationship I have with Lucas. It's been so long since I've been relatively comfortable, so I would like to keep this.

"What's wrong, Maya?" he asks, placing his hand on mine.

I stiffen from his touch, but he doesn't move his hand away, keeping his gaze on me. "I won't judge you, Maya," he presses. "You know I won't judge you."

It takes me a while to respond. "Y-you can't guarantee that, Lucas," I stutter.

He squeezes my hand, causing me to squirm. Not only am I uncomfortable with physical touch, I also feel guilty because Lucas probably feels obligated to hold my hand even if it is clammy and gross. He says, "Trust me" as if that is the easiest thing in the world to do. I can't trust; I refuse to trust. I only get hurt in the end, and I deserve it, but I just want to choose my pain. But the way he looks at me, the sea-foam green holding my eyes, makes me sit back in my chair in defeat. I go with being blunt and quick: "I can't see color."

Lucas simply blinks. "You mean you're colorblind?"

"Well, yes and no."

He furrows his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"I can't see any hue. I can only notice tinges."

"Qué?"

I roll my eyes. "No puedo ver los colores, señor."

"Didn't you take French?"

"Yes, and? That doesn't mean I can't know Spanish."

Lucas shakes his head to get back onto the topic. "How can you not see color?"

"I don't know," I say with obvious pained bewilderment.

"Did you go see a doctor?"

I fidget in my seat and avoid all eye contact possible. It probably would have been smart to go to the doctor's to understand what's wrong with me, but frankly, I'm terrified to know an exact answer.

"No," I say.

"No? he says incredulously. "You really should."

"But I'm getting better!" I exclaim. I receive a few curious glances, so I lower my voice. "I can see the color of this coffee, and your eyes, and your skin..." I look down at his on top of mine and try to compose myself. I'm losing my mind over the idea that I can't even be just Maya to Lucas.

He uses his other hand to lift my chin gently so that I meet his eyes. "Let me help you then," he offers.

My eyes widen. "How?"

He purses his lips. "I'll be honest with you: I don't know yet," he admits, but then gives me a small smile. "But I'll figure it out."

I grin from utter happiness, and I don't care to hide it. Still, I tease him. "Can you handle two tasks at once, Hee Haw?"

"If it concerns you, most definitely." The determined set of his jaw throws me off, and I can't speak. How do I respond to that other than to show my appreciation, which I would prefer not to do because then he'll get arrogant, but I allow myself to say, "I hope you're right, Huckleberry. I really do."

. . .

This time I'm awake when Lucas drops me off at my dorm. I look up into his eyes, sea-foam green meeting my whatever-the-hell-color-they-are. We stand like that for an immeasurable amount of time until I realize I don't want him to go. So I do something I've never done before.

"Do you want to come in, Sundance?"

He gives me a smirk. "You finally admit my ass is amazing."

"Okay, one: I never said that, and two: we are not having sex."

Lucas cracks up at that to which I cross my arms and do my best to frown. But it's so hard not to smile around him. When he finally wipes his eyes, I ask, "Are you done now?"

He nodes, but he's still catching his breath. "Yeah."

"Good. Because for your information, Hee Haw, I just want some company. It's been awhile."

He nods more seriously this time and says, "Okay."

Then I walk in my room, and he follows, shutting the door.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: IT'S WINTER BREAK, GUYS. I CAN SLEEP. I'M SO HAPPY. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS CHAPTER, LOVELIES~**

Chapter Eight

I work at the student store on the NYU campus. There are actually more customers than you would think, so I don't get bored too often, but when I do have time to myself, I daydream. I create a new image of myself that the people I care about would love, a person worth giving attention to. I imagine someone kind, beautiful, and happy. If I were those things, I'm positive my dad, my mom, and Riley would have stayed. I'm stuck in this world, so I don't process the tall, tan guy with an adorable smirk approaching me.

"Hey, Shortstack," Lucas says, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Hm?" I say. "Oh, hey, Hopalong." I get ready to ring him up, but then I notice he has nothing in his hands. "Um, you do realize this is a _store,_ Ranger Rick."

He just grins at me, and I grip the counter to steady myself. "I know. I was just wondering if you have time to go out on an adventure with me."

I raise an eyebrow. "And skip work? I may be a rebel, but I'm more responsible than that."

He laughs. "I mean after work, Maya."

"Oh," I say, feeling slightly stupid. "Um, sure."

"Cool. What time do you get off of work?"

I turn around to look at the clock behind me. It's 4:57. "In about an hour."

"Then I'll pick you up at six," he says with a wink. "See you later, Maya."

"Bye," I say, though he's already gone, and I know he can't hear me.

A short girl (but still taller than me) comes up to the register and sets her sweater and pens down. As I scan her items, she asks me, "Is Lucas Friar your boyfriend?"

I know where this is heading. The way she says his full name lets me know that she likes Lucas and hopes I'm not dating him, which makes me want to tell her I am, but I have no right, so I reply, "No, he's not."

"This is going to be awkward," she says, kicking her feet. "But can you put in a good word for me?"

"I don't even know you," I answer flatly but with a smile because I'd get fired otherwise.

"My name is Stephanie Lobban, and I love baseball," she says with a grin, obviously taking my statement as an agreement to pass the information on. And I will, but only to tease Lucas.

"I'll remember that," I say.

"Thank you," she says, then takes out a notepad out of her bag and writes down what even an idiot could guess is her number. She rips the paper out and slides it over to me, and I notice a heart in front of her name. I smile at her, then hand her the bag with the pens and sweater she bought to give her a signal to leave. When she does, I let out a sigh.

A guy with nerdy but cute glasses approaches the counter and says, "Did you really have to lie to spare her feelings?"

"What?" I ask, too confused to be offended. "I didn't lie."

He rolls his eyes and pushes his glasses up. "Come on, you are totally dating Lucas Friar."

I scrunch my face up. "Ew, no. How could you think that?"

"You guys hang out a lot, and I saw you guys at the party. You were awfully chummy."

"Because we're friends," I say bluntly. Who does this guy think he is, calling me a liar without even knowing me?

"Then you must have what people call a 'thing' for each other," he concludes, making me want to sock him in the stomach.

"No, we don't," I say with a sigh. "Now, are you going to buy anything or not, sir?"

"Oh yeah," he says as if he doesn't remember he's in a freaking store. He slides over a book on the mindset of females (what a shocker), and I scan it for him. I ask, "Would you like it wrapped?"

"No, thank you," he replies. "I plan on reading it right away."

"You go do that."

He starts leaving, but right when he turns around, he turns back. He says, "Are you sure you're not dating Lucas Friar?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, sir."

"Then would you care to go out with me?"

"Please leave before I call security, sir."

He runs out of the door.

You know how people are always asking about what super power you would choose? Everyone says the ability to fly or to teleport or to stop time, but I say I want the ability to shut people up. People gossip and lie and make assumptions without considering those involved. When they're on the outside, nothing is real but their imagination.

And why do people flirt with people they don't know? Is it because Hollywood romanticizes love at first sight or some sort of that shit? Because I prefer a slow development of feelings over passionate but fast.

A few more customers come during the hour until I get off, and right when the clock strikes six, Lucas walks up to me. He leans over the counter and says, "You ready to go?"

"Always," I answer, then tease, "Were you waiting for me, Hopalong?"

He smirks. "Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't."

"Where were you?"

"In the library a few blocks away."

I slap his arm playfully. "You _were_ waiting for me."

He shrugs nonchalantly, not the least bit embarrassed. "Well, I have big plans for us."

"What are they?" I'm quite curious-and a bit desperate if I'm to be honest. He's making me feel hope, which is both amazing and awful at the same time. I want to nurture it and murder it, so I end up appearing neutral about his proposal.

"A picnic. We're going to watch the sun set. It's the most beautiful sight in the world. It looks better in Texas, but we take what we can get." He looks off into the distance, no doubt nostalgic over his home state. I let him stay in his reverie because I know the strange feeling you get when you are awakened from being stuck in the past. It's like you're in two worlds at once. He finally shakes his head after a minute and asks again, "Are you ready to go?"

I respond, "I can't wait for us to get there."

. . .

I hold the basket as Lucas sets the plaid blanket down. He gestures for me to sit, and I do, handing him the basket. He takes out a couple of sandwiches and bags of cut apples, and I chuckle to myself at the scene. It's all so oddly quaint that it's kind of comforting in a way.

"What is it?" Lucas asks nervously. "Is something missing?" He looks around frantically as if he's a boy on a first date with his huge crush, and that only makes me laugh more because that's far from the truth. I'm pretty sure he's still dating Riley. He seems to like her enough now despite claiming to have liked me back in middle school, though I haven't seen him around her lately... Then again, I haven't seen Riley in a long time.

"No, it's fine," I reassure him. "I was just thinking that this is really sweet of you to do, Huckleberry."

"You're worth it," he says quietly, so I'm not sure if I heard him right. I almost ask, but I'm afraid of his response and even more frightened of how I will react. Instead I grab a sandwich and unwrap it. I take a bite and suddenly, I love food because I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW SOMETHING CAN TASTE SO GOOD, especially something as generic as a sandwich. Or maybe it's because I'm starving. I stuff my face, not mortified at all, even if I look like a five-year-old in front of the hottest guy in school (not even I can deny that).

"Whoa there, Shortstack," Lucas says. "Slow down, or else you might choke."

"Sorry," I say in a very unladylike fashion. "It's just so good, Hee Haw."

"I'm glad you like my preparation skills," he says with a laugh.

We sit in silence as we look out over the hill as the gray sky becomes grayer. I glance at Lucas and see him clench his fist then release his grip and then repeat, and I remember how much he misses Texas. I scoot closer to him and nudge him with my elbow. "Huckleberry?"

"Yeah?" he says, turning his body but not his head toward me.

"Can you describe Texas for me?"

He finally looks at me, and it's done with an astonished expression. "You actually want to know?" he asks.

"Yeah," I reply with a shrug. "Why not?"

"Well, it's just that you always make fun of where I come from..."

"Your accent begs for my attention."

He frowns. "I don't have that much of a southern drawl."

"But it's enough for me to hear, and that's all that matters to me," I say with a playful smile.

"Whatever, Shortstack," he says, then leans back on his hands. "Well, in the morning, I would wake up to a rooster, and to be honest, it's a much better way to wake up than by a radio alarm. I would go out on the farm and lie on the grass by the smaller animals-ducks, chickens, dogs-and let them crawl over me to make it back to the barn and think about life because what isn't there to think about? When I came home from school, I sat in front of my home and watched as the evening turned into a sea of orange, pink, and yellow, and when the sun set, I traced every constellation in the sky: Little Dipper, Orion, Ursa Major, and on."

I'm left speechless. I just look at him in awe until I decide he's messing with me. I say, "You're lying. Life isn't that perfect, and it sounds stereotypical of a southern lifestyle."

"I'm not lying," Lucas says seriously. "I know it sounds fake because I describe it like it comes from a movie, but it's true, and it's a great way to live, to tell you the truth."

I sigh. "But now I just want to go there."

"Then go someday," he says as if I am solvent, much less financially capable.

"I have no money," I say.

"Then I can take you," he counters easily, not like he would be doing me a huge favor if he did.

"What?" I say because I don't know how to react to his proposition. "No, I couldn't ask that of you."

"You didn't ask; I offered. There's a difference, you know."

"Yes, I do, and I also know there's a difference between friendship and charity case."

"Indeed there is, and whether you like it or not, believe it or not, you're my friend."

"I believe it, and I do like it."

His eyebrows raise at my admittance. We stare into each other's eyes, green shining bright as I hold his gaze, and I don't look away even when my heart starts racing. I'm not afraid of anything at this moment.

Well, that's what I think until he begins to lean in.

I turn my head away abruptly, trying to think of something to say when I recall that girl from earlier today. I say while pretending that I happened to want an apple slice when he wanted to kiss me, "Hey, Sundance. Have yu heard of a girl named Stephanie Lobban? Loves baseball and a bit taller than me?"

He furrows his eyebrows, but I know it's not because I rejected him. This expression isn't hurt, just confused, the kind of confused you get when trying to remember something you don't actually have a memory of. He replies, "No. Why?"

I look through my purse for her number and give him the note. "Apparently, she knows you," I say sarcastically.

"What does she look like?" he asks, obviously not catching on to the fact that I'm teasing him for his attractive features and personality and everything.

I raise my eyebrow. "You really think I can describe how she looks?"

His eyes widen with realization and apprehension. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Maya. I didn't mean-"

I put my hand up to stop him from continuing and laugh. "It's fine, Huckleberry. I'm joking."

"Then this isn't real?" he asks, holding up the ripped paper.

"No, that's real."

He examines the number as if somehow the penmanship will help him remember. It takes him two minutes before he figures something out. He gets this delighted expression and says, "Is this your number?"

"No, you idiot. I said it's Stephanie's, and I don't even have a phone."

"But I don't even know a Stephanie," he whines.

I squint my eyes at him. "Has that ever stopped any other girl from hitting on you before?"

"Fair enough..."

"Does it ever annoy you?"

"Kind of. You?"

"What about me?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Oh, Hell yes."

He laughs loudly at that. "Just checking."

But I don't mind flirting with Lucas. I can admit that in my head, and I won't deny it because it takes too much of my scarce energy to do that twenty-four seven. I'll just keep it a secret. Like every other feeling I hold, I'll keep this a secret.

"It's starting," he says, and I look out at the sky with him. At first, I only see gray and white mixed together, and I lose hope. I should have known it wasn't going to work. That's what I think for just a second before something changes. I see a soft color. Then another. And another. All blended together to make a beautiful sight that I wished I noticed many years ago. I must have some memory of what each hue looks like though, because how else would I be able to name them? The passion pink, magenta, pastel yellow, red orange, and simply orange. And my lip quivers from sheer joy.

"Maya?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

I turn to look at him with a grateful smile. "More than I have ever been."

We turn back to the sky as it welcomes us to a place of contentment and promises. And that's when a great idea hits me. I say, "Hey, Hopalong?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we paint this for our project?"

He looks at me with a huge grin and takes my hand, but I don't move away. I embrace this moment as he says, "I thought you'd never ask."

. . .

We spend the entire night painting. He creates the colors for me while I put them together. I tell him he can paint with me, but he insists that I am better than him and that he likes watching me paint. I ask him when he sees me, and all he says is, "When else do you think?" I don't respond, but I do smile, and by the time we finish, it is six in the morning, so he just sleeps over. I wake up before him and find myself wrapped in his arms. He feels so warm and strong that I lean into him more. I look up at his face, so serene and content, and I allow myself to let myself feel for a moment. I tilt my head up and kiss his cheek. He stirs but doesn't wake up, and I smile.

"Thank you, Lucas. For everything you are and do."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: To all of the gracious guests who I can't PM, thank you! Love ya guys. To Amazing Al, don't worry about there being deaths! I never see the point in killing off characters unless I'm writing a Sci-Fi or dystopian society. I wouldn't want to cause unnecessary burden.**

 **Without further ado, Chapter Nine. I like this one the most so far, and you'll see why.**

Chapter Nine

"Maya and Lucas, please stay back for a few minutes," Ms. Kossal says after class. "I want to discuss your project with you."

Is that a good or a bad sign? From my experience, it's bad, but from Lucas' experience, it's good. Did I bring him down, or did he lift me up? Shit, I hate one-on-one conversations with teachers-well, in this case, it's one-on-two, I suppose.

"This painting is quite common in the artistic world," she says, placing Lucas' and my canvas on her desk. Uh oh. That's not a sentence you want to hear in an art major. "But..." But? But what?! "You both have brought the sunset to life in a brand new way I haven't seen before. Most artists paint this sky knowing that it's beautiful, but I can see you both _feel_ it's beautiful. And your essay on the piece was simply magnificent. I loved hearing both sides of your story." She turns to Lucas. "Lucas, I hope you get to visit Texas soon, and Maya." Now she faces me, and I can hear my heart in my ears going _ba-dump, ba-dump_. She grins at me. "I hope your endeavor ends in a success."

I let out a sigh, and my shoulders slouch back to my usual posture. "Thank you, Ms. Kossal."

As Lucas and I start to leave, Ms. Kossal calls out, "And Maya?"

Lucas and I turn around, both curiously. "Yes?" I say.

"I know you'll reach your full potential."

I smile at the compliment. "I hope so."

. . .

"Lucas," I say. "Why are we at the gym?"

I think he tries to smirk, but it comes out as a grimace. "I need to keep myself in shape, but...well, look around."

I do as he tells me to and notice groups of hormonal, love-struck girls checking him out, and I literally slap myself on the forehead. How could I forget about the fact that other people can get attracted to Lucas? That's so stupid of me.

"Then why not ask Riley to come?" I say. I don't sound bitter, just bewildered.

He furrows his eyebrows, also confused. "Why would I ask Riley?"

"Isn't she your girlfriend?"

His eyes widen. "You didn't hear about it? I thought at least she would tell you."

"Tell me what?" I say, brushing my finger along the treadmill. I know I wouldn't know. We haven't spoken in two months, yes, but we weren't connecting for three years now.

"I broke up with her."

My head snaps to face him. "What?"

He seems completely troubled by my lack of participation in gossip regarding my best friend. "You really didn't know?"

I hesitate for a moment before responding, "Riley and I haven't talked in a while."

"Oh...," he says then looks down for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Huckleberry?"

He just shakes his head. "Just know that I am."

I nod, not wanting to push him, and look around. I notice two girls approaching with smitten and flirtatious smiles, so when they're in hearing range, I lean closer to Lucas and slowly drag my finger across the muscles on his arm and say, "You know, Lucas, you're especially hot when you're working out."

"What?" he says as if I would have any other reason to flirt with him other than to be a good friend. I glance at the girls, and he catches on quickly. Then he leans closer to me so that we're only two inches apart.

"And you're pretty sexy in that outfit."

I blush but raise my eyebrows nonetheless. "Just slightly?"

"Fine, really."

I smile. "Well, I did wear this just for you." And it's true. He took me to my dorm after class and told me to change into sweats and a sports bra (to which I slapped him for). When I asked why, he just said that he deserved a gift for helping me see colors again, and I could never thank him enough, so I obliged.

He smirks. Then he decides it's a good idea to kiss me. But luckily, I have fast reflexes, so I turn away, and his lips find my cheek. I glance at the girls again to find that they are too jealous to realize that I rejected his kiss. Or maybe they're even more jealous because he tried.

I look back at Lucas who seems kind of happy despite the fact that his lips didn't touch mine, but I guess it's an achievement enough because I didn't push him away. Flustered, I get up on the treadmill next to him, though I'm at a much slower pace than him. He grins at me, and-oh, God, this is the most mortifying moment of my life-I trip. "Damn it," I mutter as Lucas seems even prouder than before. "Oh, get that stupid look off of your face," I say. "I'm just out of shape."

"Mhm," he teases, totally not buying my excuse.

After an hour of this, we move to weight lifting. And by we, I mean I stand by to count how many time Lucas brings the metal bar up and down.

"So...," I say. "When did you break up with Riley?" Oh God, I sound like one of those fawners, don't I.

He keeps his face blank, and I hate that I can't read his expression. "About three months ago, I think."

"Why?"

"I realized I didn't love her the way I thought I did."

I raise my eyebrow out of confusion, not playfulness. "It took you five years to figure that out?"

"So it would seem."

I wonder what changed his mind. I would ask, but it doesn't seem like he's ready to talk about it. Has he spoken about it with anyone? Do Billy and Zay know?

A half hour later, Lucas looks at the clock and says he has to go to work soon, so we head off to the showers. Many people are uncomfortable with the idea of public bathing, but I don't care. I love water. It feels like it's washing away all of my sins and memories so that I can start over.

When I get out of the stall, I notice my bag is missing. My bag that held my clothes. Lucky for me, the gym has towels for those who forget, so I quickly wring my hair out and wrap another towel around me and head out of the room. Lucas is already waiting for me, and his eyes practically fall out of his head from shock. He jogs up to me and asks, "Where are your clothes?"

I ignore the obvious stares from other guys that pass by as I shrug. "Someone took it, I guess."

"And you're not the least bit mad?"

"Not really," I reply, which isn't a lie. I don't care. This happened a lot in my neighborhood.

But it didn't happen often where Lucas was raised. He trembles, so I put my hand on his arm to placate him, but he's too far gone. He charges back into the gym and yells, "Okay, who did this? Who the hell took Maya's clothes?!"

No one speaks up, too afraid from never experiencing Texas Lucas. I'm not scared, never have been of the boy protecting me, so I stand in front of him and say, "Lucas. It's fine."

He looks down at me, his eyes softening the slightest bit. "No, it's not, Maya. I hate the way they're all staring at you like you're purely entertainment."

I look around at each face, not to verify his statement, but to find a way to calm him down. Then I come across the culprit: the two girls who I prevented from hitting on Lucas. I walk up to them with my head held up high and say nonchalantly, "I know you have my bag. Please give it back."

The one with the high ponytail sneers at me. "And what makes you think I took it?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Do I really need to tell you why?"

"Enlighten me."

"Just give it back," Lucas says lowly from behind me. Even I almost shiver from how menacing he sounds.

The girls' heads snap to him, and they stutter, making incoherent excuses, but Lucas just puts his hands up to stop them. "Just give it back," he repeats.

They run to the back of the room and fumble to return my bag. Then Lucas leads me out to the girls' changing room. He says, "I'll keep watch for you." I think it's highly unnecessary but flattering, so I nod my head and go inside.

As I dress, I wonder about how my life would be without Lucas. The first thing that comes to my mind is alone. So fucking alone. Despite the person I've become, he still stands by me. Despite the secrets I keep, he trusts me. Despite the distance I put between us, he never lets me go. You know that saying "if you love something, set it free; if it comes back, it's meant to be"? I don't believe that. What if you both set each other free? Then you spend your life waiting for the person who's waiting for you. Not that I love Lucas. I just mean that I appreciate his presence.

I walk out to see Lucas staring right at the door and approach him. He cups my cheek and looks at me with an expression I've never seen anyone look at me with. It's both exhilarating and frightening. After a minute of this, I end the moment and ask, "Don't you have to go to work?"

He drops his hand abruptly and says, "Shit! Yeah, I do." Then he looks at me, seemingly conflicted and stressed, and I know he doesn't want to leave me, so I offer to stay at his work with him.

"Really?" he says, already slightly alleviated.

I nod, unsure of whether I'm flustered or just plain nervous.

His shoulders slouch from his relief. "Okay, let's go."

We start walking out of the building when I say, "You don't work at a strip club, do you?"

He smirks at me. "You would like that, wouldn't you." It's not a question, so I slap his arm.

"No," I tell him. "I definitely would not."

"Whatever you say," he says and puts his arm around my shoulders. I don't move away.

. . .

Lucas works at a place you'd least expect him to: a library. I mean, he's just so friendly that I expected him to have a job that requires him to speak. But then I notice all of the sultry glances of every female in the freaking room, and I know why he would choose the library. No one can flirt with him at a place where silence is the etiquette. I sit by him at the information desk as he plays games on the computer to which I roll my eyes. I get up to find a book, promising Lucas I will come back before he can freak out, and go through the aisles. I run my fingers along the spines of the books until I come across one with the title _Everything, Everything_. That intrigues me because it's so vague, and everything is already everything, so why say it twice? I read the summary and find it's a typical young adult novel with a slight twist: the girl has SCID. I grab it from the shelf and go back to sit next to Lucas who seems so focused on the game that I chuckle and shake my head.

I'm a slow reader, so during the entire four hours Lucas works, I'm reading the same book. My favorite character is Carla, the protagonist's, Madeline's, nurse. Carla gives Madeline such real advice, and I want to believe what she does, but it's hard. It's hard to understand that life's a gift and that I shouldn't forget to live it; it's hard to realize that I wouldn't be living if I didn't regret. I try, but effort doesn't make anything less difficult. It just makes it easier to swallow.

What do I regret? I suppose it's not being good enough, but what is good enough? Who do people I care about want me to be? I suppose that's a question to answer my question, which leads me nowhere.

"Maya," I hear a deep voice say.

"Hm?" I say absentmindedly.

"It's time to go." The voice belongs to Lucas.

I focus on the real world and see him watch me carefully. I wonder what I look like right now, but maybe it's better that I don't know. I get up, and we walk to my dorm. Our steps echo as we head up the stairs to the third floor. There's an elevator, but I want to enjoy the time I have left with Lucas, and he doesn't mind that I do. I'm pretty sure that's why he didn't tell us to take the elevator.

We get to my room, but I don't go inside, and he doesn't leave, so we just stand there. I look up at him and see he's still worried about me, so I say, "I'll be okay, Lucas."

"I know," he says. "I know...it's just doesn't _feel_ like you'll be safe."

"You want to stay over then?"

He appears surprised. "Really?"

I roll my eyes. "This isn't the first time, you know."

He laughs. "Fair enough. Honestly, I should just keep some of my clothes here."

"Sure," I say.

His jaw slackens slightly. "Are you serious?"

I shrug. "Yeah. Why not?"

"I just didn't think you'd agree to something so invasive."

I raise my eyebrow. "How's that invasive?"

"Well...it's your room."

"And?"

"And...never mind," he says, realizing the more he argues with me, the higher the chance will be that I'll change my mind. "I'll be back." He sprints down the hall to get his clothes, and I chuckle to myself while shaking my head. I go inside my dorm and decide I should do something so I don't seem creepy as I wait for Lucas. I look down at my hands and notice I never fixed my nail polish from two months ago, so I grab my nail polish remover, sit on the floor, and begin scrubbing away. When I finish, I get up to throw the cotton swabs away and hear a knock on the door. I open the door to find a grinning Lucas holding his apparel. He walks in, but then blinks like something's wrong. He asks, "Why does it smell like cleaning products?"

I raise my eyebrow. "I can't clean?"

He turns sharply to face me. "No! No, I just meant-"

"Relax, Huckleberry," I interrupt with a laugh. "I was just washing my nail polish off."

"Oh. Are you going to put another color on?"

"I only have black, Sundance."

He nods, understanding why. Then I literally see a light bulb over his head when he drops his clothes onto the floor. He says, "I'll be back."

"What are you going-?" I begin to ask when he leaves, closing the door lightly behind him, the damn gentleman.

Well, I guess I'll just put his clothes away for him. I have an empty bottom drawer, so I put them in there. Plus, it'll be funny to see Lucas bend over to grab what he needs. I note that he only brought two pairs of shirts and jeans, but it doesn't matter. The fact that they're here is enough for me. Not that I would admit that out loud.

Just as I put the last shirt away, I hear another knock on the door. When I open it this time, I see a grinning Lucas holding up a nail polish.

I furrow my eyebrows. "What color is that?" I ask as he walks in.

"Blue!" he replies excitedly, plopping down on the floor.

I sit next to him. "Of course you'd choose your favorite color."

He seems shocked, which is understandable because it's such a trivial detail about him. "You remember?"

I shrug. "I remember random facts."

He nods slowly then reaches for my hand. I don't know why I can't just apply the nail polish myself, but I don't argue. As he puts it on, I watch him. He looks so focused, which is both amusing and adorable because it's just my nails. I reach out to touch the crease between his eyebrows, and his muscles relax under my fingers, but he doesn't look up. In fact, when he's done with one hand, he grabs the other one silently and continues to paint. I stare at him until he says, "Done."

I look down at my hands and think I'm just seeing black until the light hits my nails just right and notice that it's just a really, really dark blue. It's the color of the night sky. I look back up at Lucas and grin. "Thank you," I say.

"For what?" he says, bewildered, though I'm confused about what there isn't to thank him for.

"Do I really need to tell you what for?"

He studies my face for a few moment before concluding he doesn't. "No, I guess not. But I hope you know that I would go to Siberia and back for you."

I do, Lucas, though I'll never understand why. "Or just the room next door."

"Hey, it was _two_ rooms down."

We laugh for a little, and I think we both feel it. The fall that we can't get back from. He looks at me, and I look at him. He cups my cheek and leans forward, and I meet him halfway for a long and slow kiss. I've kissed other guys before, but no one comes near to the feeling Lucas gives to me. He deepens the kiss, and I pull back, saying that I'll get the nail polish on his clothes.

"Who cares?" he says. "I love blue."

I grin, and he pulls me back in, holding on to me tightly. I sit on his lap and wonder how I could have rejected his so many times before. His lips are soft and welcoming and caring. I don't want this moment to end.

Later, we lie on my bed, his arm around my waist and my hands on his chest. In this serene silence, I can finally admit aloud what I've been too afraid to.

"Lucas?"

"Hm?" he says, chin resting on my head.

"You remember how you told me you liked me in middle school?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Me too."

"You liked yourself in middle school?"

"No, you idiot. I've liked _you_ since middle school."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"I wish I knew that earlier."

"Why?"

"I would have stayed by you even when you pushed me away. But I should have done that anyway. God, I'm such an awful friend. I'm sorry, Maya. I should have-"

"Lucas, it's fine."

"But-"

I lean up and kiss him, trying to put everything that he's given to me through my lips. Happiness, excitement, love.

Hope.

For once in my life, the past doesn't matter.

All that matters is me, Lucas, our connected lips.

Now.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Happy 2016, lovelies~! Sorry for the late update. I can only type up a story when I feel like I can endure the excitement of posting xD Anyways, enjoy~**

Chapter 10

Art class is more fun now that I can see more colors. I feel like I actually have something to share with the world now, especially with Lucas next to me, pointing out the different hues. I don't see them, but I don't care. We're getting somewhere, and Ms. Kossal understands my situation, so she doesn't mind if he and I work together.

"This," he says while holding up a paint brush, "is red."

I nod, trusting him to not lie to me. "Okay."

"See anything yet?" he asks, which is now a perfunctory question.

I shake my head in response. "No."

"That's okay," he reassures me. "One day you will."

I believe that now. I just wonder when.

After class, Lucas asks me if I want to go to his dorm for a change. We're not exclusive yet, but I have no doubt that will change when Billy and Zay see us. I don't mind; I just have to prepare myself for all of Lucas' fangirls.

"Sure," I reply.

When we get to his room, I realize I haven't seen Billy and Zay in a while. So when we walk inside, I'm not ready for the friendly but tense competition occurring. I'm certainly not prepared for the Foosball table in the middle of the room.

"Getting nervous yet, Babineaux?" Billy intimidates.

"No, but I can feel your sweat from here," Zay counters.

"Now you see why I wanted you to come," Lucas says.

"You know we could have gone somewhere else," I say.

He grins. "I know."

"So you wanted me to suffer with you."

"Maybe," he singsongs with a smirk.

"Look!" Zay says, drawing our attention away from each other. "Two more people! Join a team."

Billy takes Zay's distraction as an opportunity to score to which Zay mutters profanities. Billy does a happy dance, and Lucas asks me if I'm okay with joining.

"Yeah," I answer. "Sounds like fun."

He smiles. "Okay." Then he directs his attention back to his friends. "Fine," he tells them. "We'll play, bt Maya and I are on a team."

"What?!" Billy says indignantly. "That ruins the whole point of the game."

"How?"

"Because it's always been Billy against me, man," Zay complains. "I don't know how to be on the same team as this guy!"

Lucas crosses his arms. "Well maybe it's time you learned."

Billy and Zay notice Lucas' resolve for us to be on a team, so they acquiesce with a pout. Lucas and I get on our side of the table while Billy and Zay get on theirs. Billy starts the game. The ball rolls toward me, and I stop it, hitting it to Lucas who slams it to our goal, zipping right past Zay. Billy roars in outrage and starts to bully Zay, and I wonder out loud how they aren't kicked out of the dorm yet. Lucas laughs and says, "See? It's good to learn teamwork."

"No fair!" Zay says. "You and Maya have a special connection that allows you to cooperate so easily."

"Where did you get that idea from?" I ask. "Hee Haw and I always argue."

"It's not arguing; it's teasing," Billy defines. "And it's like a tennis games, effortless and graceful."

"Except tennis players grunt."

"They do, don't they?" Zay singsongs, and thought I am sure I'm blushing, I raise an eyebrow and say, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well-"

"Are we playing another round or what?" Lucas interrupts (thankfully).

"Let's do this, Friar," Billy challenges.

The next rounds last longer with a bigger electric aura, and I see what Billy and Zay mean. I think that I can read Lucas' mind, and he can read mine because there isn't even a second delay of our reactions. He moves, then I move; he moves, and I don't; I move, and he doesn't. I don't think even Riley and I were this in sync, which is a frightening and heartbreaking thought, so I just focus on the game.

We stop playing when Billy and Zay become sore losers. (The score was twenty-three to four.) Lucas is so delighted, though I don't understand why because he didn't even really want to play in the first place, that he picks me up and twirls me around. I laugh, and when he puts me down, I kiss him in congratulations.

"WHAT," Zay and Billy say in unison. "You guys are dating?"

Oh yeah. They didn't know. I forgot, obviously.

"Yep," Lucas says with a grin, intertwining his fingers with mine.

"About damn time!" Zay says, approaching Lucas to slap him on the arm.

"They just couldn't stand not admitting they have the hots for each other," Billy says, somehow recalling the conversation from when he had a hangover.

"Yeah, yeah," I say, not meeting anyone's eyes. Lucas presses his cheek to the top of my head.

"Well, I'm thirsty," Zay announces. "I'm getting a drink. You guys want anything?"

I shake my head while Lucas replies, "Nope."

"I do," Billy says. "But I'm coming with you. You never get what I want."

"That's not true!" Zay exclaims as they leave. "You never tell me what you want, so I..." The rest is lost when they close the door.

Lucas laughs and directs me toward the area where we can sit and stretch our legs without hitting the Foosball table.

"Your room is a safety hazard," I inform him.

"Blame my roommates," he says. "I warned them that it'd be bad if they get the table."

"Come on. Be honest. You had fun playing with it."

"I'll admit it if you do."

"Fine. That's the most fun I've had in years."

He grins, making my heart palpitate. "I'm glad."

He leans in to kiss me, and I happily accept, settling on his lap. We make out until we hear the door open. I reluctantly pull away and turn around to see Zay and Billy entering with an argument.

"I always get that for you!" Zay says to Billy.

"No you don't," says Billy. "You get Gatorade, but you get cherry flavored instead of grape."

"Well, who in their right mind picks grape over cherry?"

"People with good taste."

"I'll settle this debate for you guys," Lucas says. "They both suck."

They finally notice Lucas and me, Zay stopping in mid arm flail and Billy puckering his lips to drink his apparently grape Gatorade. They smirk at the sight of me on Lucas' lap. Billy asks, "We can leave if you want."

I shrug. "It's you room. I'm not going to tell you to do anything."

"I believe that's a yes."

I roll my eyes. "Don't twist my words."

Billy raises his hands in the air, surrendering. "Okay! Sorry."

"Hey, I know what we should do," says Zay. "Play Truth or Dare."

Lucas says, "Zay..."

"C'mon, buddy." The whine comes out intensely. It sounds like a whale.

"It never ends well. Someone gets butt hurt, or I have to save someone from hurting his butt. Namely yours."

"Ah, but you forget there's one difference: there's a lady present."

I snicker at being called a lady, and Lucas appears appalled too, but not for the same reason as me. He says, "You think I could forget the sexy, beautiful girl on my lap?"

I laugh out loud at that and slap his arm. "You idiot."

His hands slip around my waist with a smile. "Only for you."

"Are we playing Truth or Dare, or are we leaving you to finish what you started?" Zay says.

"Let's play," I reply, sliding off of Lucas' lap.

Lucas seems uneasy. "Are you sure, Maya? We really don't have to."

"I'm interested to see who will need Huckleberry for saving."

"One day, animals will," Billy points out.

"Oter than them."

"Well, I brought up this game, so I get to go first," says Zay. "Billy! Truth or Dare?"

"We just came back from outside, so Truth."

"You guys leave your room for dares? I ask incredulously.

"Yep," Zay says to me, then turn back to Billy. "Okay, would you rather have a serious relationship with Sarah or have a one night stand with Darby, knowing that Yogi will probably kill you?"

"We're not playing Would You Rather, Babineaux."

"Then I change the game," Zay says, and Lucas visibly relaxes. I guess Would You Rather doesn't end as badly as Truth or Dare. "Just answer the question, Bil-lay!"

Billy takes a moment to think. "One night stand with Darby."

I frown. "Do you not like Sarah that much?"

"No, it's not that. I just hardly know anything about her, and I think a serious relationship requires some knowledge about your partner."

"Like if your favorite color is blue," Lucas adds with a grin to which I roll my eyes but peck his cheek.

What Billy says is sweet and true, but I still say, "But Yogi is..." Huge. Puberty hit him hard. Always expect that with the small ones. Except me.

Billy shrugs. "Sex is a two part effort."

"Fair enough."

"Lucas," Billy says, turning to him. "Would you rather cheat on Maya or never know her at all?"

"Cheat on Maya," he answers easily.

I raise my eyebrow. "What?"

Lucas does the same. "Why would I ever choose to not know you?" he says, staring deep into my eyes. "To not know the way you bite your lips when you tease me, to not know your graceful movement as you paint, to not know the way your ocean blue eyes find the best of me? Yes, it would kill me to lose you, but I would never trade you for the world."

I'm breathless. He watches me so carefully, he watches me like I watch him, and I'm frightened. Frightened at how real this all is because it can be taken from me in an instant, leaving me with nothing. But I don't want to think about this now, so I turn away and see a mirror. I look the same-gray hair, white skin, black eyeliner-except for one thing: my eyes. I say to Lucas, "They really are an ocean blue."

I turn back to him to find him grinning. "Yeah," he says. "They are."

I nod then face Zay. "As Lucas' girlfriend"-at this, Lucas' smile splits his face-"I take his turn. Zay, would you rather do a dare or tell me the truth?"

I can hear his gulp. "Truth?" he squeaks out. "Okay, moving on, M-"

"Why are you so interested in other people's lives?"

"Yeah, I've been wondering that too," Billy says.

Zay's eyes flicker between Billy and me. "G-guys, this isn't Truth or Dare, remember?"

Lucas sighs. "Just answer the question, Zay."

The Best Friend Code is something you can't break, and it dictates honesty, so Zay says, "I just want to make sure you're all happy. I get frustrated sometimes with the distance between Vanessa and me, so I distract myself with you guys, my friends."

"Dude," Billy says. "That's the sweetest thing I ever heard."

"Really? You just heard Lucas declare his undying love for Maya, and you react to this?"

I blush and look at Lucas who isn't mortified at all. He simply stares in my eyes in deep thought and reaches out to cup my cheek. He rubs it absentmindedly, and I wonder what he's thinking about to make him this way.

"We'll just leave you guys..." I hear Billy say from somewhere far away, and when I hear the door close, I say, "Lucas, what's-"

His lips crash into mine, stealing my breath away. I gasp but kiss him back with equal intensity. My hands tangle into his hair, and he pulls me flush against him, and I don't know how we go here, but I like it. Then I remember that Lucas is distressed, so I pull away, biting his lower lip in the process.

"Lucas," I say with my face only an inch away from his. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry," he says softly. "I just started thinking about my life without you, and I thought about who I was, and how messed up I would have been without you."

Why does he have to say what I want to hear and mean it? "That couldn't have been me," I whisper, looking down. "I'm just me. I'm not as supportive as Riley; I'm not as honest as Farkle; I'm not as funny as Zay; and I'm not as kind as you."

"But you are the most caring," he says with conviction. How can a voice sound so endearing? How can someone believe in me so much? "I have never met anyone who always put other before themselves."

I shake my head. "I'm selfish. So selfish. I pushed people away just to protect myself. My best friend doesn't want to talk to me, and I don't even try to reach out to her." I'm on the verge of tears, but I continue. "I mean, I should be heartbroken, but instead I feel relieved."

"And why do you feel relieved?"

"Because..." I hesitate because I see where he's going with this. "Because I won't hurt her anymore."

He smiles softly. "See? You always put yourself after others." Then he gives me a chaste kiss on the lips. "But I think it's very hard for you to upset people. You should give yourself a little more credit than that."

I giggle with hiccups, sounds that have never come out of my mouth, much less together. I feel like a child. "You're just bias."

"Maybe," he says with a shrug. "Or maybe I became bias after knowing who you are."

"That doesn't even make sense," I say but smile anyway.

"No, but you just have to trust me on this."

"...I'll try."

He looks at me, unconvinced. "Do you want to talk to Riley?"

I blanch from fear. "I do, but not right now."

He nods. "I understand." Then he pulls me closer, and I lie against his chest. His heart beats confidently, and I try to syncopate mine to his. Then I sing quietly.

 _Standing on the outside  
Made me realize  
How beautiful life  
Truly is.  
I wanted to be inside,  
But my web of lies  
To hide my strife  
Left me with  
This feeling that I'd always be alone.  
But now you're my home._

"I like your voice," Lucas murmurs into my hair. "What song is that?"

"I made it up."

"Just now?"

I nod, causing his shirt to wrinkle under my cheek.

"Wow. Are you sure that isn't a hobby?"

"I don't know. Does it count if it just relaxes me? I don't feel passionate about songwriting."

"It counts," he says, then sits up so that I can look at him. "See? I told you I'd help you find a hobby."

I scrunch up my nose. "I already had one apparently."

"Yes, but I helped you _realize_ it was a hobby."

"Fair enough."

"Okay, I'd love to cherish this moment with you for the rest of my life, but I'm starving. Care to go to a greasy establishment with me, Ms. Hart?"

I laugh. "You sure know how to woo a woman, Huckleberry. But anywhere is fine as long as I am with you."

. . .

In-N-Out. I know it's crazy, but I haven't been here in forever. It just brings up too many bad memories, but I won't tell Lucas. He'll worry too much.

Lucas slips his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, while looking up at the menu. I already know what I want. I always make up my mind easily, even when I don't want to.

We walk up to the register to a boy with freckles. I'm not a big fan of freckles, but it works on this guy. He says, "Welcome to In-N-Out. What can I get for you today?"

"Hi," Lucas says with a charming smile. "Can I get a hamburger and a medium sized drink?"

"Sure. And what will you have, Miss?"

I'm not going to lie: I like being called miss. "I'll have a cheeseburger."

"Would you like a drink to go with that?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay," the guys says, tapping the screen. "That'll be nine eighty-nine."

I'm about to take my wallet out when Lucas puts his hand out to stop me. He laughs and says, "We're on a date, and you expect to pay for yourself?"

"You don't owe me anything, Lucas."

He grins and hands the guy the money. "I know."

The guy hands us our cups, and we head to the drink machine. I get myself a pink lemonade while Lucas gets Coca Cola. He's not very healthy for someone who was on the high school baseball team. But then again, this is just one meal.

We sit on the waiting seats. Lucas takes me hand for no reason, though I'm not complaining. I'll take any reassurance that he's really in my life. I'll keep his warm hand, keep the way his thumb rubs my knuckles absentmindedly. I'll watch him and remember very detail there is, so even if he leaves me, I'll always have a piece of him.

"Number forty-six?" a girl with a diamond shaped head calls out.

Lucas squeezes my hand and says, "That's us."

I get up with him, and we grab out tray and head to a tall table with revolving chairs. I look up at Lucas with a smile and say, "You know me so well."

He smirks. "Anything for my Shortstack." How I love being his.

I put my drink on the table and hop onto the seat while Lucas chuckles, sliding into his own. As we eat, he keeps glancing at me, like he has something to say. When we finish our burgers, I take a sip from my drink and ask, "What's on your mind?"

His face contorts into many different emotions before settling on sheepish. "I was just wondering what you're thinking of. I never know."

I think that's his way of asking if I'm okay without me receding into myself, but I guess we understand each other enough for me to tell the truth. "I was just thinking about how finite time is."

"What do you mean?"

"All my life, people have come and gone without an explanation. I always wish for them to stay, but they don't. I suppose it's to remind me that there's no such thing as forever, and if that's what it is, then what ever natural force there is in this world is doing its job right."

Lucas contemplates over my claim for a while. "But doesn't the limit to time make it more precious?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I think knowing that a person can leave at any moment makes me want to spend as much time with the person, whether it's laughing, talking, or even arguing. I just want to _live_ with the person."

"Even if it hurts?" I ask.

"Even if it hurts," he confirms. "But," he says, staring into my eyes solemnly. "I promise to be with you for the rest of our lives."

I turn away, disbelieving. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Lucas."

"Hey, look at me." He puts his hand under my chin and lightly but firmly turns my face back to him. "You know what else is finite? Life. I really care about you, so I'm going to make sure that in this limited lifespan we have, we're going to spend it together."

I want to believe him, I really do. But I'm just me. I wasn't enough for anyone else before. What makes him different? Actually, that's a stupid 's kinder and more understanding than the average being. He has a dark past, but he's learning to become better, not that I think he's bad right now, and like Riley, he sees the best of people. But Riley is a good person too, and she left me.

"Maya?" Lucas says, searching for my eyes.

"I'm okay," I say with my best reassuring smile.

He purses his lips like he doesn't believe me. "If you're not, you can tell me."

"I am. There are moments when I'm not, but when I'm with you, I'm okay."

He studies my visage before saying, "Alright."

I place my hand over his. "I mean it. I'm happy with you."

He gives me a small smile. "And I promise I'll always stay to make sure of it."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey, lovelies~ To the guests, I can't PM, thank you very much! Your words touch my heart. You know you're a good author when you make someone cry xD To Pony-Edward-Lucas'Girl, here's part one of three of what happened to Riley! Hope it's satisfying.  
As you can probably tell from that comment, this story is coming to an end. After this chapter, there are two more and one epilogue! I already finished writing them so be on the lookout ;)  
Without further ado, Chapter 11.**

Chapter Eleven

Bio, art, work, Lucas. That's my life. The list grew longer, if that's any consolation, but I think Lucas is enough. It's not about how many but how important something (or in this case, someone) is. I may seem hard to please, but everyone forgets that all I want is to love and be loved.

Right now, I'm at work. This is the only alone time I have now, which, no offense to Lucas, is necessary for a girl like me. It's just that he makes me so hopeful, but I need to be cynical sometimes. Otherwise I become scared.

I have this really bad habit of playing with the register to make music, which I only do when no one is in the store. I don't press the buttons, but I grab pens and tap the register wildly, which is the most free anyone will ever see me. My hair flips back and forth and falls loosely around my shoulders. I'm singing, but not too loudly in case someone will definitely hear me, or I won't hear someone come in. And I certainly don't want someone walking in on my weird dancing and singing.

 _Ding._ I hear the door bell to signal a customer chime.

I stop playing and pretend to look at my nails, which are quite chipped, but I don't mind because I can still see the color. I think of Lucas, and a small smile creeps on my face, but I don't stop it. I learned to enjoy happiness while it lasts because it can be lost in a moment, and I'd rather have a memory of its existence than wonder if I can actually feel that way.

Two people approach the counter: Lucas and the girl who works the next shift. I look behind me at the clock and notice that it's already six. There weren't many people today, but time still managed to sneak up on me. I smile at the girl who takes over my shift and go to the back to gather my belongings. I tell Lucas to wait for a bit and head to the back where the lockers are. I change out of my uniform, grabbing my bag, and return to Lucas. He asks me with a smirk, "Are you ready to go?"

"What does it look like, Hee Haw?"

He laughs. "Fair enough. Let's go."

. . .

We arrive at Lucas' dorm, and when I walk in, I see Zay and Billy arguing over what they should watch. I haven't watched any show or movie in a long time. I don't have enough money to allow myself the pleasure of a TV or a trip to the theater.

"We've seen the Avengers countless times!" Billy says.

"Yeah, but it's an amazing movie," Zay counters.

"We haven't watched The Walking Dead in a while..."

"Because that show is too predictable!"

"You think each death is predictable?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Then prove it by watching it again."

"Hey, guys," Lucas interrupts. "Maya's here. Why not let her decide?"

I give him a death glare for dragging me into this. "Because I don't care, Sundance," I say.

"Then The Walking Dead it is," Billy dictates, grabbing the remote and searching for the show on Netflix. Zay groans in complaint.

"How are you with horror?" Lucas asks me.

I reply, "I honestly don't know. The last time I watched TV was with Riley, and you know how she is with scary stuff."

"Then this should be interesting."

I raise my eyebrow. "Why?"

"There are two types of people in this world when it comes to horror," he says, then puts two fingers up and touches one. "The type that becomes relaxed"-he touches the other finger-"and the type that screams slash yelps and talks during every scene to calm themselves down."

"Which type are you?"

"The type that relaxes. I'm not scared of what isn't real."

"Fair enough."

"Come on, guys," Billy says. "Are you going to stand by the door forever or watch with us?"

"Either way, I get Lucaya action," Zay says.

I roll my eyes and sit on the couch behind them. Lucas sits next to me, slipping his arm around my shoulder, and I lean into him. The show starts, and I'm confused because it's an episode from season four (apparently). Who are the main characters? Who's the main protagonist? That person never dies, and I would like to not become attached to anyone who won't stay. OH MY GOD. WHAT IS THAT ZOMBIE? Its face is so gross-I can't. I turn away, shutting my eyes tightly, and bury my face in Lucas' chest who chuckles at my reaction. He says, "Guess we know which type you are."

"Shut up, Ranger Rick," I say. "I'm not even talking."

"Because you're not looking."

"...I'd rather not."

He laughs and kisses the top of my head. He brushes his hand through my messy hair. I purr (how embarrassing) because it's a soothing motion. It's not sexual; it's sweet. It's like a kind smile instead of a sexy smirk. (Wow, of course I'd compare it to that.)

I hear an ax go though a body, and I literally scream. Then I curse and cover my ears as I hear guts being squished because the image it creates is one that threatens to make me puke. I feel Lucas' arms tighten around me, and I feel his breath against my hand, so I stop hiding my ears. He whispers, "Do you want to watch something else?"

"No," I say. "You don't have to do that for me."

"Then do you want to go out somewhere?"

"Honestly, Lucas, I'm okay. Just enjoy yourself."

"I can't enjoy myself if you aren't."

"Just go, Maya," Billy says.

"Yeah," says Zay. "I can't hear my show with you guys talking in the background."

"So you are interested," Billy singsongs.

"No, I'm so bored that I can't help but listen to Lucaya."

I roll my eyes and sigh. Then I get up and say, "Okay, fine." I walk to the door with Lucas in tow. He closes the door, and we ambulate to the stairs in silence. When we're out of the building, I say, "Sorry for making you come with me and miss your show."

"You didn't make me do anything," Lucas reassures.

"It's just...," I begin, hesitating and debating whether I should continue. I look into his eyes and see him wait for me patiently. I turn away again and say, "It's just that sometimes I feel like I'm a zombie too, like I'm not truly living and I'm constantly hurting people. Like I shouldn't exist." I glance at Lucas to assess if I said too much and notice him still staring at me. He looks so heartbroken, and all I can think is that he doesn't know how to let me down gently when he says, "I can't believe you could ever think such a thing. Who on this planet have you hurt?"

"My mom with our fights and my lack of support. Riley with my lack of attention and affection. And..." This is when I say what I've been avoiding to. I never wanted to admit this because then I would admit to just how inconsiderate I am. "And you. For pushing you away when you deserved no such treatment."

Lucas appears startled by my statement and looks away. He stutters, searching for something to counter with, but I interrupt. "See? You can't even look at me because you know it's true."

He turns to me again, face contorted with pain. "Fine, I admit you hurt me. I just didn't- _don't_ -understand why you left me."

That comment takes my heart and smashes it into millions of microscopic pieces. All my life I said I was the one abandoned. All my life I thought I stood by people, but they decided to walk away. And here I have someone I care about so strongly thinking I did what I vowed I wouldn't do to him. It never occurred to me as that. How could I have been so blind?

"I was afraid," I say in a whisper, eyes tearing up. "My mom went AWOL, and you were the only one who could console me. Not even Riley, my _best_ friend, could. Then I realized I was falling for you, my best friend's _boyfriend._ I knew if I loved you, there was a chance I would lose both of you. So I went with the safer choice and kept my relationship with Riley because we were inseparable." I look past him, recalling the day she said we couldn't be friends anymore. "Or so I thought."

Lucas places his hand under my chin and gently forces me to look at him. I don't want to. His eyes are rimmed with red. I would be happy to see another color if it didn't kill me this much to see it on such a beautiful face. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. "This is my fault. She didn't want to be your friend because of me."

I knit my eyebrows. "What the hell are you talking about? It couldn't have been you."

"It was always you," he says, eyes softening. "I always loved you, but I figured I didn't have a chance with the rebellious, caring girl, so I chose the kind, supportive one who already liked me because I was too stupid and scared to realize my actions had consequences."

"But how is our separation your fault?" I think he's only trying to make me feel better, and I don't appreciate pity.

"It wasn't obvious that I liked you when you still hung out with me. I could hide my feelings if you were still in my life, but when you distanced yourself from me, I became extremely worried. I asked about you all of the time, and Riley grew suspicious, but she thought that maybe I was just being a good friend. That changed when-when she..."

He struggles with saying the next part, eyes darting everywhere to avoid mine, so I ask, "When she what?"

"When she was planning on having sex with me," he replies, staring at the ground. "I told her that I didn't want to do it with her, and when she asked why, I told her it was because I didn't love her in that way."

"But how does that connect to me?" I ask, growing really frustrated.

"Well, we've been dating since the seventh grade. That's more than enough time to fall for someone, so she knew the only way I couldn't love her in that way was if I loved someone else. then she put two-and-two together and figured out that I love you." He finally looks back up at me, biting his lip and assessing my reaction. I'm not angry with him in the least. I wouldn't have let myself be with him anyways, and I'm the one who distance myself from Riley. She didn't feel connected to me anymore because _I'm_ the one who built the wall, so I say to Lucas, "It's okay. I don't blame you."

"But-" he begins, but I cut him off with a passionate kiss. He kisses me back desperately, arms slipping around my waist and holding on to me tightly. My hands tangle into his hair, and our lips move in sync. How a man like this could love me, I don't know. But maybe it's better that I don't question it.

. . .

Lucas and I lie on my bed fully clothed (relationships don't have to have _that_ kind of intimacy) and talk.

"So you love me?" he asks with a smirk.

I scrunch my face up but smile. "Yeah, I love you very much."

"Since when?"

"Since the day you helped me save the art program in eighth grade. I knew you were the kindest person I could ever meet, and I knew that's a special quality." He wears a small smile in response, and I ask, "When did you realize you love me?"

"It was a slow process. I noticed in small moments, like when Farkle was bullied, and you became protective over him. But the day I realized it completely was the day you told me your mother left. You came to me, broken and empty, and all I could think was who could ever leave someone as caring as you? Strong as you? Beautiful as you... I eventually created a list so long that I knew I loved you."

I laugh, though my eyes are tearing up. He has that effect on me. I say, "I don't even know why I chose to go to you first. I thought of you before I thought of Riley, which surprised me because she was my best friend, obviously. But I was already at your house, and I was tired, so I knocked on your door, and there you were."

"I remember having mixed feelings," he says softly. I look up and know that although his eyes are on me, they only see the me from that day. "I was delighted that you would come to me instead of Riley, but I was also hurt because I hate seeing you so broken. Do you know how beautiful your smile is?" I shake my head. "I'm surprised no one has ever told you how jealous they are of your smile. It always manages to make me happy too." I grin, and he laughs. "See? Right there. That makes up for everything that's ever gone wrong in my life."

He stares at me, and I stare back, and overtime, his gaze darkens. "God, you're so beautiful," he says.

"Says the guy with the fangirls," I tease. "All eyes are on you, Ranger Rick."

He gives me a small smile. "I only need you, Shortstack."

And I need you too, Huckleberry. I always will.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: To Guest, thank you! Here's that update: Part Two of the Resolution xD Sorry if this chapter has grammar errors. I was rushing because I have so many ideas I want to get out~**

Chapter 12

Farkle. I need to talk to Farkle. He's the only person I know who is close to Riley. Maybe she told him about us. Or if not, I'm sure he can guess.

The problem is that I haven't spoken to him in a long time. I have no idea where he spends his time, nor do I know where his classes are. There's only one person to ask, but I know the consequences of doing so. Is it worth it? I don't know, which saddens me. I used to say Riley was worth it even in my sleep, but we've become different people. I don't know if she loves me anymore.

"Maya," Lucas warns me. We're heading out of class, and I almost walk into the door. "Watch out."

I stop abruptly and blink. I forgot where I was. That happens sometimes, but usually when I'm not walking.

I stay silent as we head to my dorm and ignore Lucas' glances at me. He stops me by the time we're halfway there, and I raise my eyebrow questioningly. He says, "Maya, don't pretend that you don't know why I stopped you. I know there's something bothering you."

I look everywhere but at him as I debate whether to tell him the truth, but do I really need to ask myself that? This guy knows me like the back of his hand, maybe even better that that, because honestly, who knows how the back of their hand looks? So I say, "I need to talk to Farkle."

Lucas hesitates. "Why?"

I sigh. "I need to talk to him about Riley."

His eyes grow concerned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I know that you want to understand what happened, but are you ready to know every detail of the story?"

"I'm not ready. That's why I want to talk to Farkle, not Riley."

He purses his lips in contemplation, eyeing me carefully. "Okay. Do you know where he is?"

I shake my head forlornly. "I haven't talked to him in a year. I was hoping you could help me find him."

Lucas holds his arm out for me. "Lucky for you, ma'am, I keep very close contact with Mr. Minkus."

I curtsy, teasing him, then wrap my arm around his. "Why, thank you, Mr. Huckleberry."

He tips his imaginary hat. "Anything for milady."

. . .

Lucas holds his hand out to stop me. "We can't go in," he says. "The lab is only for those in the chem major."

"Then what do we do?" I ask.

"You stand here while I look like an idiot."

"Wait, what?"

He then proceeds to wave his arms frantically from the door and shouts, "HEY."

Everyone turns around, so Lucas stops moving like a stranded baboon and says, "May I speak to Farkle Minkus?"

A boy steps forward with goggles and a lab coat. He seems baffled instead of angry like I would have expected. He approaches us and asks, "What are you doing here, Lucas? I told you I have an important-" He pauses when he finally notices me. His eyes widen, and I wave sheepishly. "Hey, Farks," I greet.

"Maya," he manages to breathe out. "Okay, just wait a moment. I need to put my stuff away. I'll be right back." Farkle speed-walks to clean up, and I look at Lucas and say, "Thank you."

He smiles gently. "No problem. No matter what happens, I'm always here for you."

. . .

We go to Retrogrand, and Farkle looks around with knit eyebrows. He says, "Maybe I shouldn't have worn black today."

"Dude," Lucas says. "You wear black everyday."

Farkle waves Lucas' comment off as we approach the counter. The barista is a thin male, and although it's a random thought, I'm happy that Kelly doesn't have to work overtime. The guy smiles almost as charmingly as Lucas and says, "Hey, what can I get for you today?"

"I'll have a mocha and a dark-roast," says Lucas. I roll my eyes at the fact that he ordered for me.

"And I'll have whatever makes me the least hyper," Farkle says to which the barista chuckles.

"Are you paying altogether?" the guy asks.

"Yeah," Lucas says, but Farkle is already handing the barista the exact change. I raise my eyebrow while Lucas says, "I can pay, Farkle."

Farkle blinks. "But I already did."

"And the right amount too," the barista adds. "Man, how did you calculate that?"

Farkle answers, but I tune him out. I don't need to hear math in a coffee shop.

The barista gives us our drinks after a riveting conversation on addition and multiplication, and I lead the way to my favorite table. As I'm about to hop on to the chair, Farkle says, "Are you sure, Maya?"

I give him a death glare, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Okay! You're sure." He sits across from me while Lucas sits in between us. Farkle asks, "So what did you want to talk about, Maya?"

I squirm in my seat, not realizing earlier how hard it would be to bring up what I want to say. Finally, I let out "Riley."

He purses his lips. "What about her?"

"First of all, how is she?"

He looks down at his coffee. "She could be better."

I lean forward. "Why, Farkle? Please just tell me why."

He slowly brings his eyes up to meet mine. "She misses you and Lucas."

Lucas sighs bittersweetly. "I thought she hated me," he admits, voice cracking.

"No," Farkle says softly. "She was just disappointed you didn't tell her sooner. She still wants to be your friend. She loves you, after all."

"And I love her. Just not in that way."

"Yes, we know," Farkle says, then glances at me. "You love Maya in that way. I've always known that, so I'm at fault too."

Lucas appears shocked. "You knew? How?"

"Your eyes tell all, Lucas. Those who don't see are those who don't want to believe."

 _Like Riley and me,_ I want to fill in. "But if she misses us, why won't she talk to us?" I ask.

Farkle smiles sadly. "She feels like she doesn't know you guys anymore. Lucas never told her how he felt, and you distanced yourself from everyone, including her, Maya. Ring Power didn't seem to work anymore, and she lost hope."

My little ball of sunshine lost hope. I shake my head. "No," I keep saying. "No." I'm losing my mind. "It's not that Ring Power stopped working; _I_ stopped working."

"You have to tell her that, Maya."

"But will she listen, Farkle?" I look into his eyes to find something, any hint of the truth. "Will she listen and believe me?"

He nods. "As long as you're one hundred percent open."

"Okay," I nod. Then I cry. I cry in the middle of a crowded coffee shop because I finally have hope that I will find what I lost so long ago. I cry because I'm finally finding myself. I cry because I'm finally going to be reunited with everyone. Then I say, "Sorry, Farkle, for pushing you away. You're one of the best friends any person in this galaxy could ever have."

Then he gets up, walks around the table, and gathers me in his arms. "It's okay. I should have been there for you no matter what."

I cry harder and bury my face into his shoulder. I cry harder because everyone I know takes the blame for my selfish acts. "I love you, Farkle."

"And I love you, Maya."

I hear a chair being pushed out and another pair of arms hold me. "We all love you, Maya," I hear Lucas say. "We all love you, and we will never stop."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Final Part of the Resolution! Sorry if this chapter is rough. I was listening to music as I typed this up, so I might have forgotten to make better transitions xD After this, an epilogue, and this story will be done ;-;**

Chapter 12

Farkle arranged plans for Riley and me to meet. Except she thinks she's meeting up with him, not me, though she could be suspicious because I don't think it makes sense for him to ask her to go to the NYU campus store first, and that terrifies me. What if she sees me and runs out, never giving me a chance to tell my side of the story, never giving me a chance to hear hers? I'm so afraid; I can feel it fill my lungs, fill my mind, fill my heart. Somebody keep me here. I'm scared, and I don't want to change my anymore.

I wish Lucas was here, and he wanted to be with me too, but I told him he couldn't. It would hurt Riley, and I swore I would never hurt her. But I suppose I already did. That's another thing that's breaking me. I shift on my feet as I wait for her arrival. The employee who took over my shift has been eyeing me warily. I can't blame her. After all, I'm practically a solicitor. But I have my reasons, and I'll use them if I have to.

Then the bell on the door chimes, and I see a girl with brown hair approach me. She wears a blank expression, which makes me break out into a sweat because I used to read her so well.

I expected her to run when she saw me, and when she doesn't, I expect her to ignore me. But instead, she walks right up to me and says, "Are you meeting up with Farkle too?"

I shake my head, speechless.

"Is it just you and me?"

I nod with a sheepish smile that comes out more as a grimace.

"Did he put you up to this?" He being Farkle, not Lucas. It takes me a moment to realize that.

I shake my head again.

She seems to relax at this, which gives me hope. Maybe she really isn't mad at me; maybe she is just as nervous as me. She says, "Okay, where to?"

I finally manage to find my voice. "A-anywhere you want to go, Riles."

She smiles. "Well, I'm in the mood for Italian."

. . .

Riley makes sure to pick a cheap restaurant. I turn to her with a grateful smile which she returns, and we walk inside. It's a cozy place: wooden tables and seats and plaid table cloths with candles lit in the center. We sit by the window, right where I like it. We don't speak as the waitress hands us our menus; we don't speak when she leaves; we don't speak to each other when a waiter comes to take our order. I fidget in my chair, look at my nails, hum under my breath, do whatever it takes to slow my racing heart. Riley simply looks outside the window contemplating about something I wish I knew. We finally speak when we get out food, which happened (surprisingly) because of me. "So...," I say. "How have you been?"

"I've been well," Riley says, facing me. She searches my eyes for something, despite being the one talking. "My classes are the right balance between challenging and fun, and I've had good company." She winces. "Not that you're bad company!" she says quickly. "I just mean...oh, I don't know, Maya. I could be worse, I suppose."

I nod. "The story of my life," I say softly, looking down.

I can feel her watch me carefully as she asks, "How have you been?"

"I've been well too," I say with a grin. "I can feel now; I'm not disconnected with anyone." I reach over the table for Riley's hand but stop in my movement when I realize that she may not want to touch her. I hover, not meeting her eyes, and she takes my hand. I look up, and she smiles at me reassuringly. I return it and continue, "That's why I wanted to see you. I thought I could finally be who deserved."

"Maya...you were always enough. I just felt like I wasn't."

" _You?_ Why? You always stood by me, and I couldn't even remember how to react to your problems."

"But that's just it, Maya. You didn't seem like you cared anymore, and I thought I wasn't enough to keep your love and attention."

I bite my lip at her statement. I hurt Riley even more than I thought I did. I knew she didn't feel loved by me, but I didn't know it would damage her self-esteem. How long can a person hate herself before deciding to run away?

"I'm so sorry, Riley," I apologize sincerely. "I was just scared of how I felt, and I cut myself off from everyone to avoid the consequences without realizing those repercussions only applied to me. I was so selfish."

"I just don't understand why you were afraid of me," she whispers, so I barely hear her. But I do, and my heart breaks apart. The Best Friend Code, I would have broken it no matter what rout I took; I could have stayed with Riley, but lie to her everyday by hiding how I felt about Lucas, or I could have ran away, protecting her from my betrayal. I chose to run because my job always was to protect Riley.

I stare into her eyes, pleading for her to understand. I pray she'll know what I mean when I say, "Lucas..."

She searches my eyes for a more detailed explanation, and her face softens when she finds it. "Maya...I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me that."

"I didn't want you to hate me," I admit, voice cracking at "hate."

"I could never hate you. You're my best friend. Although, I have to admit that I was more shocked that after all of this time, Lucas never told me how he felt about you until..." She seems nervous, and she plays with her fingers awkwardly.

I chuckle. "It's okay. You don't have to finish that sentence; I know."

She relaxes for a moment before stiffening again. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Always," I reply in a heartbeat.

"The more you distanced yourself from me, the more I craved Lucas' attention. So when he broke up with me, I thought I would only have halves of people I care about the most, and I blamed you. I ended our friendship because I was mat at you, and this lasted for a while before I realize how _silly_ I was being. But by then, you were already close to Lucas again, and I thought that it was so wonderful seeing you happy again, and I didn't want to take that away from you."

My breath catches. "You noticed me?"

She gives me a sad smile. "I always watch you. I may be naive, but not when it comes to matters involving you."

I choke. All this time Riley has been watching me? I never noticed her around, but she always saw me. I'm an awful friend. I didn't care for her like I should have. I didn't fulfill my responsibility. I _failed._ I claimed to love her and sacrifice my wants for her, but I never noticed how she felt. My lips quivers until I burst into tears for the second time in my life.

"I'm sorry," I sputter. "I'm so sorry, Riley. I should have loved you better." My shoulders shake, and I wonder how I lost so much self-control. Riley squeezes my hand, and I realize she never moved it away. I wipe my tears away, but more keep coming.

"You were going through an internal battle," she says kindly. "I understand you just cut yourself from your emotions. Just promise you'll try not to do that anymore."

I nod. "I promise." Then I notice the insinuation behind the comment. "Does this mean we're friends again?" I ask hopefully.

She smiles and holds up her hand. "Ring power."

I grin and hold up my hand as well. "Ring power."

We start to finish our cool food, and after a few minutes of silence, Riley says, "So Lucas."

"He misses you," I say honestly.

"As much I love hearing that, I mean how's your relationship with him?"

I bite my lip. "Do you really want to hear about that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Riley exclaims. "Of course I do! He's the only one who's ever been able to get you to let yourself be happy."

"If you say so... Well, he takes me out to restaurants, but I insist on cheap places because he pays for me every time. He helps me find colors, something I thought I would never get back." Then my face brightens, and a smile splits my face. "He holds me like he's afraid of letting me go, and when he kisses me - when he _kisses_ me - I feel overwhelmed with how much I love him and how much he loves me."

"That's so _cute._ " Then she furrows her eyebrows as though she's confused. "What do you mean by 'helps me find colors'?"

My smile falters. "Oh, well, as I started drifting away from everyone, my world turned into black and white. It's weird, and I don't even know how it's possible, but now I can see some more colors, so it's fine. Plus I'll add to my collection soon enough."

Riley looks at me with a delighted expression and says, "I like seeing you this hopeful and happy."

I grin. "It _feels_ great."

She laughs, and we finish our food. When we're done, we ask a waiter for a check. When he leaves, Riley lifts her eyebrows suggestively and says, "So are you guys doing it?"

I roll my eyes. "No, Riley. We are not having sex. I love him, but I don't need to have skin-to-skin contact to prove it."

She laughs. "You know I'm just teasing you," she singsongs.

I laugh too. "I know."

The waiter comes back with our check, and as I'm about to pay, Riley stops me. "I got this," she says, and I groan. "Not you too," I complain.

She giggles. "Me too."

We head to the girls' dormitory, and right before we go inside, I ask, "Do you want to have a sleepover?"

Riley grins. "That's my favorite way to end the day."

We spend the rest of the night talking about random, meaningless things that seem to be important when I'm with Riley. She paints my nails in purple, and I paint hers rainbow. (I think; if not, she doesn't seem to mind.) At one point, I find the courage and comfort to be able to say, "I've missed you, Honey."

She tucks me into her arms and says, "I've missed you too, Peaches."

When she pulls back, my world is brighter and more alive. I grin and say, "Riles?"

"Yes, Peaches?"

"Your hair is brown, your nails are orange, and your pajamas are red."

Her smile is wide and beautiful with her understanding of why I said that.

"You were always more than enough," I say.


	14. Epilogue-ish

Epilogue-ish

College, work, friends. It looks like a short list, but it's not. Those are just categories, and within those categories are reasons why life is worth living despite all the struggles that tie each of us together. Riley moved in with me, so I have my sister back again. Farkle tutors me, so I see him often. I act as a referee in Zay and Billy's competition, and sometimes I play against either one of them. And Lucas. It doesn't matter what we do because I just love being with him. I love him. (But I bet you can figure out what we do anyway.) When we're all available, we go out to Retrogrand and just talk about anything, whether serious or funny, random or intellectual, because we know the most important thing about our conversation is that we're together.

Today we're going to have a picnic at the park nearby, the place where I saw the sun set with Lucas. I bring my sketchbook with me just in case I see something worth drawing. Then again, each moment with my friends is a moment worth capturing. We walk to the park, and I love that we choose to walk because it makes time move more slowly, and I learned to drink in every second of this short life. The guys lead the way, and Riley and I stay behind with linked arms. The boys laugh at something Zay said, but I'm focusing on only Lucas. I watch the way his sea-foam green eyes dance in mirth, the way his crooked grin widens to brighten his face, and I smile to myself.

"He's really something, isn't he," Riley says. I used to feel apprehensive every time she brought Lucas up, but she told me she moved on from him for the most part, and I believe her. Her demeanor around him has gotten friendlier and less tentative, and she seems truly happy for me.

"He really is," I say. Then I turn to her and smile. "But so are you."

She flips her hair with her free hand and says, "Well, of course I am." She's joking, but I know she's gotten more confident over these past two months, so I say with a smirk, "When did you grow from that insecure girl I used to know?"

She nudges me with her shoulder. "When I found out that Maya and Riley are indestructible. Despite distance and hardship, we'll always come back to each other."

I grin and pump my fist into the air. "RING POWER," I shout at the top of my lungs.

"RING POWER," Riley joins.

The guys turn around and smile at us.

. . .

The guys grab each corner of the blanket and set it down, but Farkle is OCD, so he keeps telling them to "attack the wrinkles." Eventually, Billy says, "Oh my God, there's no such thing as perfection. Let it go, man."

Farkle huffs, but does as he's told. Riley and I get out the food and hand it to everyone, and we settle down. Lucas is next to me, so I lean into him, and he wraps his arm around my waist to support me. Riley takes her camera out of her bag and snaps a picture of Lucas and me to which I blink and ask, "What was that for?"

"For memories," she singsongs.

Zay holds up his juice box and says, "For memories!"

I laugh and roll my eyes, but I do the same. "And for every moment that makes Now so special."

"To us!" Farkle adds enthusiastically.

"To us," Billy agrees.

"To us," Lucas finalizes.

We chug our drinks, and I am overwhelmed with the feeling that this friendship is truly something worth years of pain and loneliness if it means finding each other again.

Lucas leans his head closer to me. "How are you?"

I look up at him with a smile. "I've never been better."

"Then my work here is done."

I raise my eyebrow. "Does that mean you're leaving me?"

I was teasing him, but he answers seriously. He touches his forehead to mine and says, "Never."

"Don't change my mind, Huckleberry."

He kisses me, long and slow. "I think I already did."

I hear what he's saying loud and clear. Before Lucas, I was broken. Lost. Confused.

Hopeless.

But with him in my life, I grow everyday and learn that life isn't always dark. The world is wild. Bright. Colorful.

Beautiful.

So right before I kiss him again, I say, "You did."

 **A/N: And that wraps up my first fanfic! Thank you for all of my loyal readers; I love you all so much. I will see you soon! Very, very soon...**


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